


The Ties That Bind: S1E3 - Wendigo

by TinkerbellBleu



Series: The Ties That Bind [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Divurgence, Cliche, F/M, Fan Service, Feels, Fluff, Fluffy, Foreshadowing, Language, Meta, Mostly Canon Compliant, Novel, Rewrite, Sarcasm, Sass, Series, Slow Burn, Snark, Spoilers, Tropes, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:15:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 39,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24898297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TinkerbellBleu/pseuds/TinkerbellBleu
Summary: Following their father's coordinates, Sam and Dean take Skye to Blackwater Ridge, Colorado, and just so happen to stumble over a man-eating monster while on John's trail. Coincidence? ...of course not.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Ties That Bind [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1242071
Comments: 26
Kudos: 15





	1. Prologue

_The Personal Journal of Skye Winchester_

_Fear. It's such a small thing, fear. One tiny word. Four measly little letters. It sounds so innocuous when you say it aloud and yet it's something so pervasive that we've all dealt with at some point in our lives. Whether it's the tiny, niggling insecurities that gnaw at the back of your brain or the overwhelming dread that roars up out of the pit of your stomach to try and swallow you whole, we've all experienced it._

_Why am I talking about fear, you ask? Good question and honestly, I'm not really sure. I guess, perhaps, it's because my next story deals so much with fear. Hell, my whole life I've dealt with fear, and I thought it couldn't get any worse than the things I'd already experienced._

_I was wrong._

_Even worse than the fear of physical pain, or the fear of being shut away and forgotten, or even the fear of death itself is the fear of losing something you didn't even know you desperately wanted until you're faced with the possibility that it may disappear forever._

_The fear of losing something—or someone—you've only just found._

_Before we go any further, a word of warning: Here there be monsters..._


	2. Game Shows and Guilty Souls

_"Of all the liars in the world, sometimes the worst are our own fears."_

— **Rudyard Kipling**

" _... I'm in love with an angel, Heaven forbid. Made me a believer with the touch of her skin…"_

The music spilling out of the Impala's speakers was turned down low enough to not disturb Sam sleeping in the backseat, but was still just a bit too loud to clearly hear the brunette sitting cross-legged in the passenger seat as she sang along. Not that Dean was listening or anything. _Who am I even trying to kid here?_

"Don't even think about touchin' that dial, Winchester." Reaching over to nudge the volume down just a little bit, Skye's voice caught Dean up short before his fingers could touch plastic. She hadn't so much as glanced up from the leather-bound journal spread open in her lap, but then the girl rarely missed a thing. Even—or maybe especially—when Dean thought she wasn't paying the least bit of attention to what was going on around her. "That radio is mine for another…" Trailing off, she shifted enough to glance at the small LCD screen on the hot pink flip phone she had tucked between her thigh and the seat, "-four hours and twenty-seven minutes."

"Come on _,_ Tink." If she wanted to think he'd been trying to change the station, who was he to argue? Probably better than the alternative. God forbid she start thinking he _liked_ her or something. A smile twitching at the corners of his lips, Dean glanced over at her before dragging his eyes back to the road, slipping a little whine into his voice. Immature? Maybe. Did he care? Not even a little. "This barely even qualifies as music."

"Suck it up, Buttercup. You're the one that took the bet." Slowly flipping to the next page of his Dad's journal, Skye pursed her lips, eyes skimming some surprisingly lovely handwriting and a few not-so-lovely sketches. From what Dean could see, she was already about a quarter of the way through it and she'd only had it for an hour and a half. "Not my fault you didn't pay attention in grade school."

Biting back a grin, Dean managed to keep his eyes firmly on the asphalt rapidly disappearing beneath the tires, much as he might prefer the view to his immediate right. It really wouldn't do to crash the car because he had a hard time not staring like a teenager with his first crush. "I still think you cheated."

A half-smile tugging on one side of her lips, Skye nodded absently, as if his claim made total sense. "Yup, it's a huge conspiracy between me and Jeff Foxworthy _just_ to fuck with you."

"At least you admit it."

Without another word, Skye's half-smile turned into something a little broader as she reached over and slowly turned the volume on the radio back up before promptly returning to her 'studying', leaving Dean wishing—and not for the first time in the last hour—that he hadn't given in and told her she could read the damn thing.

" _...I'm in love with an angel who's afraid of the light, her halo is broken but there's fight in her eyes…"_

* * *

_Dressed in a somber suit that contrasted vividly with the blazing summer sky stretching overhead, Sam stood above Jessica's grave, a mixed bouquet of flowers in hand. His gaze was drawn to her headstone—decorated with pictures and stuffed animals—reading the words engraved there over and over without meaning to._

_Without wanting to._

_Jessica Lee Moore_

_Beloved Daughter_

_January 24th, 1984 - November 2nd, 2005_

_**Beloved Daughter.**_ _He'd hoped that someday she'd be 'Beloved Wife', maybe even 'Mother', but now he'd never get the chance to find out._

_..._ _**my fault...** _

_Glancing down at the flowers clutched in his fingers, he tried to smile but just couldn't manage more than a grimace. "I um-You always said roses were lame so I brought you uh-"_

_Eyes stinging with tears he desperately tried to hold back, his words cut off as grief thickened his throat. He bit his lip hard enough to taste the tang of blood on his tongue, focusing on the pain and using it to take a minute to gather himself before he tried to speak again._

" _Jess…" Blinking rapidly to clear his vision as the tears won in spite of his best efforts, he took a hesitant step forward and promptly sank to his knees as his legs gave out from under him, overcome with a guilt that threatened to crush him like he was nothing. "Oh God, I should have protected you. I should have told you the truth..."_

_Gently, he laid the flowers he'd brought on her headstone, careful not to cover the small picture of her smiling happily out from the sculpted concrete. She was so beautiful and she looked so happy. So alive..._

_The air around him thickened and he found it hard to move, hard to breathe. Not that it really mattered. Nothing really mattered right now… Nothing except-_

_Choking back a scream, Sam gave in to a deep-seated survival instinct and tried to scramble away as the loose soil covering the grave exploded outward. A spray of dirt and rocks rained down around him as a hand—as_ _ **her**_ _hand—shot out of the earth and wrapped her fingers around his wrist, trying to drag him down into the dark depths of her coffin where he belonged…_

_..._ _**It's my fault. It's all my fault. I'm so sorry…** _

* * *

Jerking awake, Sam gasped, forced to take a second to catch his breath as a horrified scream tried to seize the back of his throat and cut off his oxygen supply. _Just a dream. It was just a dream..._

"You okay?"

"Yeah." Reluctantly sitting up, Sam rubbed gritty eyes and cleared his throat, the thinly-veiled concern in his brother's voice bringing him fully back to reality. Not that reality was any better than his nightmares these days. Hell, in a lot of ways, it was infinitely worse. "I'm fine."

"Sure you are." With a snort that might have seemed derisive if it weren't for the sympathetic smile she gave him, it was obvious Skye wasn't buying the bullshit Sam was shoveling. "And I am just the epitome of mental health and prosperity."

The brief look of consternation that flashed across Dean's face was comical, as if he couldn't figure out whether to agree or disagree with Skye's assessment of her own psychological state. He settled for taking the safe route and ignored it altogether, choosing instead to skirt the subject entirely as he met Sam's eyes in the rearview. _Smart move._ "You wanna drive for awhile?"

Leaning back against the dark leather, Sam shook his head, trying not to smirk at his brother and ultimately failing. Everyone knew that car was Dean's most prized possession—her name was Baby, for Christ sake—and in the normal scheme of things, Dean wouldn't have ever made such an offer. Granted, things were pretty damn far from 'normal'. "In your whole life, you have never once asked me that."

"Just thought you might want to. Never mind."

"Look, I get that you guys are worried about me, but it's not needed." Sam bit back a sigh, shaking his unruly hair out of his eyes as he sagged back against the seat and forced a smile. "I'm perfectly fine."

"Uh-huh...yeah." Skye rolled her eyes so hard Sam was amazed they didn't stick that way, though that was quickly followed with a conspiratorial smile and a wink as she switched subjects, trying to lighten the mood. "I'll drive if Sam doesn't want to."

Sam flashed her a grateful smile. He'd gotten to know her fairly well over the last week and, while she might be a snarky, bratty little know-it-all, she could also be very sweet when she was relaxed and not on the defensive.

Dean's response was instant and not the most thought out but it certainly served to take some of the heat away from Sam, which he had no doubt was exactly Skye's purpose. "Over my dead body."

"Sure thing, but Sam'll probably lodge a protest." Sam shook his head as she shifted around to glance back at him, chuckling at his tacit permission to murder his brother before she turned back around and grinned broadly in Dean's direction. "Not to mention it'd probably damage the car and there isn't a doubt in my mind that you'd haunt my ass for the rest of my life if I so much as scratched the fuckin' _paint_."

"You think you're funny, don't you, Tinkerbell?"

"I think I'm fuckin' hilarious."

* * *

"Alright, where are we?"

"Just outside of Grand Junction." Skye turned to sit with her back against the passenger side door as she flashed Sam a smile, giving him a little more space as he crossed his arms on the back of the front seat. Reluctantly, she closed John's journal and tucked it under her leg before she popped open the glovebox and dug out the map of Colorado Dean had bought at the last rest stop. "So far I'm not really seein' anything all that grand about it."

_...They're going to find him and then Dean's going to stick your ass on the first Greyhound back to Louisiana and then what are you going to do? Stupid little girl..._

"You guys-You really think we're gonna find your dad out here?" She kept her tone light as she handed Sam the map, though the tightness in her chest was anything but. Pushing the increasingly distressing thought to the back of her mind, she forced a smile that she could only hope was as convincing as it felt. "You really think your dad-That John can help?"

"I don't know, but it's worth a shot." Dean glanced over, briefly meeting her eyes and setting off a whole gymnastics team in her stomach before his gaze slid away again, his expression unreadable as his hands tensed around the steering wheel until the leather creaked and his knuckles whitened. "He'll have answers, he'll know what to do. He has to."

_...He means the answer to you. You're a liability, a problem that needs fixing and he's going to ditch you the second he's not tied to you anymore..._

Swallowing hard against the lump in her throat, Skye closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the glass, stubbornly refusing to give that stupid little voice any credence.

"These coordinates he left us, this Blackwater Ridge…" Sam's voice and the faint rustle of paper drifted out of the darkness behind her closed lids and she latched onto it, willing to use absolutely anything that would get her out of her own thoughts for a second.

"What about it?"

Dean's baritone blended with the sound of the asphalt rushing beneath the tires and the purr of the engine, the combination making a surprisingly soothing background that eased the tension in her shoulders about half a notch. If someone had told her a couple of weeks ago if she'd be comfortable riding for hours on end in a big, black metal box with an overgrown grief-stricken puppy and the single most aggravating man she'd ever met, she'd have laughed in their face. _I'm going to miss them._

... _Pathetic..._

"It's in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, that's what." Cracking an eyelid, Skye answered before Sam had a chance to, grateful for any excuse to think about something else. _Anything_ else. "There's nothin' there, Winchester, just woods, woods and more woods."

"Exactly." Absently nodding agreement, Sam folded the map back up and tossed it into her lap, reaching out to ruffle her hair—and ignoring the dirty look that got him—before he sat back and turned a thoughtful gaze to the evergreens rushing past the windows. "So why is Dad sending us out there?"


	3. Intrusive Insecurities

Gravel crunched beneath Skyler's boots as she stepped out of the car and raised a hand to shield her eyes from the brilliant afternoon sun. It was warm for the season—well into the sixties—but that didn't stop the shiver that rippled up her spine as she squinted into the too-bright sky, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake as she took a good look at their surroundings.

Nudging the door closed with a hip, she tucked her hands deep into the pockets of her denim jacket and drifted a little farther from the car, her stomach slowly dropping into her toes as she peered into the wilderness that pressed closely around them. _Nope, that's not terrifying at all._

Aside from the the three of them and the log cabin that was apparently the ranger station for Lost Creek National Park—or so the utilitarian brown and white sign claimed, though it looked a lot more 'Little House on the Prairie' and less 'Official Government Building'—and a handful of hikers in a black pickup truck, there was nothing. Not a dirt road, not a power line, not so much as a cell tower in the distance. It was just trees, trees, and oh look, more trees...

_...You're going to get lost out there. Left behind and forgotten. Or worse..._

"You good?"

She twitched as Dean's voice spoke up from too closely behind her, his breath hot on the back of her neck as the scent of coffee and leather and gun oil and everything that screamed 'Dean' momentarily drowned out the overwhelming fragrance of pine that permeated everything around them.

"Yeah, I'm fine." _But you won't be when I strangle you to death with your own flannel._ Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and reminded herself that he didn't mean to sneak up on her like that. Most people tended to register on her radar long before they got close enough to reach out and touch her but for whatever stupid reason, Dean was able to catch her out on a semi-regular basis. It was an aggravating talent, but one she was slowly learning to live with. It didn't help that, while she was fairly sure he wasn't doing it on purpose, she was _positive_ he thought he was hilarious.

_Because of course he does. Let's sneak up on him sometime, make him jump three feet, and see how_ _ **he**_ _likes it. Hell, I'd probably end up getting_ _ **shot**_ _._

A smile pulled at her lips as she brushed it off with a silent vow to get him back at some point in the near future. Maybe with a Lifetime movie marathon or a giant bucket of ice water over his head the next time he took a shower. Granted, she'd need Sam's help with that one, but she figured he'd probably be amenable. "I've just never been in a real forest before, you know? It just caught me a little off guard, is all."

Dean's eyes narrowed at the look on her face—probably sensing the imminent mortal danger he was in if he didn't take a step back and stop smirking down at her with those stupid too-perfect lips—and he slowly faded back to hover at the edge of her personal bubble, holding his hands up in mock-surrender. "Sorry."

" _That's_ convincing." Nope, that wasn't sarcasm at _all._ And it had _nothing_ to do with the fact that he was trying so hard not to giggle he was practically vibrating. "Has anyone told you lately that you're an asshole?"

"Yeah, you, about a dozen times a day." Dean crossed his arms, the hint of a smile on his lips vying with the flicker of temper in those gorgeous green eyes. It was like looking at sunlight through a stained-glass window. _Stop it._ "Hell, you called me an asshole and a whole string of way worse shit not even two hours ago."

"Well maybe if you'd stop _acting_ like one-"

"I was _not_ -"

"I had to pee and you wouldn't pull over!"

"We were ten minutes from a gas station! Fuck me for thinkin' you might prefer a bathroom to the side of the fuckin' _road_." Dean's voice rose a decibel or two and he straightened, that flicker of temper flaring a little higher as he took a step toward her, the muscle in his jaw twitching as he clenched his teeth and growled, "Keep it up and I may just feed you to directly to the wolves, save them the trouble of draggin' your bitchy ass off."

... _Told you so…_

To his credit, the instant regret Dean felt was obvious for anyone with eyeballs and there wasn't a doubt in Skye's mind that he would have taken it back if he could have. Not that she held it against him (much). She might be a lot of things, but she wasn't a hypocrite.

"I'm not-I didn't-"

"Guys, if you two are done pulling each other's pigtails, you might want to keep it down." Glancing pointedly at the hikers who were starting to pay a little too much attention to their bickering, Sam interrupted, stepping in to de-escalate the situation with a long-suffering sigh. Okay, so maybe not the first time he'd had to do that, but it's not like she _meant_ to start fights, they just _happened. And it's not like I'm the only one that does it._

"Besides-" Smiling down at her, Sam reached up and gave her shoulder a brief squeeze, moving slow enough that she didn't flinch at the contact. _A habit Dean could stand to learn._ "-even if Dean tried to leave you in the middle of the forest, I'm sure you'd just toss a few breadcrumbs and find your way right back."

"Gee, thanks, Hansel." Hands tucked into her pockets, Skye dug a strained smile out of somewhere and plastered it firmly on her face, though from the look Sam and Dean exchanged, it wasn't fooling either one of them. "If only your jackass brother were half as reassuring."

Eyes narrowed, Dean went quiet for a moment before the anger drained out of him as quickly as it had come as he gave her a long look that seemed to pick out every tense muscle and twitch. Or maybe as if he could see straight into her head to pick out all the crap swirling around in there. _Because that's a comfortable thought._ "...you really are freaked, aren't you?"

"No, of course not, I'm just-I'm just tired." Dredging up a sigh that originated from somewhere below her knees, Skye tried to shift her strained smile to something that at least bordered on apologetic. She'd started this particular fight and she wasn't above admitting when she was being a bitch. Some of the time, anyway. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"Don't worry about it." Say what she would about the man, at least he didn't hold a grudge. Slowly raising a hand, Dean gestured for her to precede him and Sam onto the small porch that ran the length of the ranger station before placing himself firmly between her and the big bad wilderness.

With a smile that far outshadowed the aggravation that had so recently graced his stupidly perfect face, Dean shrugged off the argument like it had never happened. "Besides, no way Sam would let me live it down if I up and lost you in the middle of bumfuck nowhere."

"Yeah. _That's_ why." Stepping up onto the porch next to her, Sam pushed open the door and stood aside, a shadowed smile on his own lips as he snorted at Dean's reasoning. "It's totally not because he wants to-"

"Shut up, Sam." Dean gave Sam a shove, pushing him through the door and into the station. Propping the door open with a booted foot, Dean looked back at her, raising a brow as she stopped to glance back at the trees that seemed to press closer around them. "You good?"

_I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration..._

"Yeah. I'm good."

* * *

Sam gave his eyes a moment to adjust before taking a good look around the darkened interior and found about what he'd expected. The typical desk-and-filing cabinet combo took up most of the space, leaving little room for anything else except… Was that a three dimensional map of the park? About the size of a pool table, it immediately drew his attention and he stepped closer, leaning down to peer at the tiny legend tucked into the corner of the table.

"It looks like Blackwater Ridge is pretty remote." Tracing the various lines that flowed from one point to another, Sam chewed the inside of his cheek as he examined the area, not really liking what he saw. "It's cut off by these canyons here-" He tapped a spot on the map, producing a dull thud that led him to believe the whole thing was solid wood "-and there's rough terrain and dense forest here." Frowning, he focused on the dark spots that lay scattered around Blackwater Ridge and the surrounding areas. "It looks like all these are abandoned silver and gold mines."

He glanced up, looking over at Skye and Dean, neither of whom appeared to be paying the least bit of attention to what he was saying. He was about to open his mouth—ready to get onto the both of them—when Skye spoke up and proved she'd at least been half-listening, "Probably from the Pike's Peak gold rush in 1851. You know they estimate over a hundred thousand people took part?" Clasping her hands behind her back, Skye looked away from the rack of postcards she'd been rifling through, meeting Sam's eyes with a smile. If she was still nervous about all of this, she showed no sign of it now. "It was one of the biggest gold rushes in American history and ultimately led to the creation of Colorado Territory in 1861."

"Aren't you just a font of useless knowledge." Wandering closer to Skye from where he'd been examining a picture of a bear hung by the door, Dean smiled down at her in a way Sam had never seen him look at anyone. What was it…? "Don't tell me you wanna go mine for gold."

_Smitten._ That was the word Sam was looking for. Or maybe 'dumbass' would be more appropriate. _It's only been two weeks, Dean. Fucks sake._ Even Sam had to admit they were cute, though, what with the way they tap-danced around each other, alternating between bickering to flirting and back again in the blink of an eye. It was equal parts adorable, hilarious, and deeply disturbing.

"Thank you, no. I've seen My Bloody Valentine and it didn't end well." Skye smiled back up at Dean and for just a split second, Sam would have sworn that a nuclear bomb could have gone off outside and neither of them would have noticed. "And again, not my fault you didn't pay attention in school."

"Here I thought you had taste." Leaning in a bit closer, Dean plucked at the end of the ever-present braid draped over Skye's shoulder, his nostrils flaring as he breathed in the scent of her. _Because that's not creepy at all._ "...and I had better things to do in school."

With a toss of her head, Skye flipped the end of her braid out of Dean's grasp and smirked up at him, a flush of color creeping up to stain her fair skin. "The cheerleading squad doesn't count, Short Bus."

Sam smothered a chuckle before clearing his throat loudly to remind the two that they were very much in public and they had things to do that didn't include each other. "Hey guys, this isn't a nature hike. There are a dozen or more grizzlies in the area so you might want to pay attention."

"You kids aren't plannin' to go out near Blackwater Ridge by any chance?"

Skye and Dean jumped as if they'd been caught out doing something they shouldn't and Sam was forced to bite his tongue to keep from laughing aloud. Straightening, he turned and smiled at the man as he pulled a lie straight out of his ass. "Uh-No, sir. We're environmental study majors from UC Boulder, just working on a paper."

Dean briefly met Sam's eyes before they slid back toward the ranger. Grinning, he held up a hand, flashing a peace sign in a truly unconvincing imitation of a college student. "Recycle, man."

"Bullshit." Striding further into the room, the ranger came to a halt a few feet from where the three of them had drawn together. "You're friends with that Hailey girl, aren't you."

It wasn't a question, it was a statement, and one the ranger seemed very sure of. Before Sam could open his mouth, Dean beat him to the punch, picking up on the ranger's certainty before anyone else had a chance. "Yes, we are, Ranger…" His eyes scrolling down to the badge adorning the ranger's jacket, Dean looked back up and met his eyes with a smile. "Wilkins."

"Well, I'll tell you exactly what I told her." Crossing his arms, Wilkins leaned a hip against the desk he stood next to, giving each of them a critical once-over. "Her brother filled out a backcountry permit saying he wouldn't be back from Blackwater Ridge until the 24th, so it's not exactly a missing person's, now is it?" Wilkins stern expression softened, letting on that maybe he wasn't as much of a hardass as he came off. "Tell that girl to quit worryin', I'm sure her brother's just fine."

"Man, that Hailey girl's quite a pistol, huh?" Tucking his hands in his pockets, Dean upped the wattage on his smile, a tactic known to work with young women and probably more than a few men. This probably wasn't one of them. "You know what might help? If I could maybe show her a copy of that permit. You know, so she could see her brother's return date."

Wilkins looked hesitant at the request, his stern countenance clouding over and Sam was sure he was about to open his mouth and refuse but he didn't get the chance.

Taking an uncertain step forward, Skye spoke up, that backwoods country accent coming out thick as molasses as she smiled up at the ranger. "I know it's a lot to ask, sir, but-" She glanced back over her shoulder and Sam could have sworn she winked, but she'd turned back around before he could be sure. "-but I just know that if it was one a my brothers missin'..." Her voice trailed off and she moved another step closer to the ranger, looking up at him from under her lashes and laid a hand on his arm, playing the sweet and innocent 'little sister' angle for all it was worth. "Please? I'm sure it'd give Hailey some peace a mind, she's just so wrought up about it."

Sam had to hand it to her, the girl was good. Real good. If he hadn't heard her curse a blue streak at Dean using words that would make Lucifer blush, Sam would have bought it. Guess there's something to be said for feminine wiles.

"I'm not really supposed to, those permits are government property but-" Wilkins looked down at her and Sam watched his hesitation melt under big brown eyes and a too-sweet smile. With a sigh, the ranger patted her hand, straightening as she took a step back. "Alright, give me just a second and I'll print you out a copy."

"Thank you so much, sir." With a grateful smile, Skye took a step back to rejoin him and Dean, surreptitiously wiping her hands on her thighs. "We really appreciate it."

Waiting until Wilkins had disappeared back into his office, Sam leaned toward Skye and smiled, keeping his voice low and nudging her shoulder with an elbow. "Nice, Shortstack."

The too-sweet 'I-am-such-a-freaking-angel' smile on her lips dissolved, replaced with a smug grin as she pulled a Han Solo. "I know."


	4. Sic Parvis Magna

The hum of the motor rumbled into nothing, fading quickly into the chilly evening breeze as Dean killed the engine and pocketed the keys. The sun was slowly sinking further toward the horizon, promising a cold, clear night. The drive from the station—interrupted only by a brief stop at Kinko's—was mostly quiet with Sam sitting tense and pensive in the passenger seat and Skyler sitting in the back with her head bent over Dad's journal again.

If he didn't know any better, Dean would have thought she wasn't the least bit aware of her surroundings, but she consistently proved him wrong by popping off whenever he said anything. Girl had a mouth on her and he'd like to…

Shoving open the driver's side door, Dean dragged his thoughts kicking and screaming back to where they were supposed to be, on the job at hand and not the snarky brunette currently getting out of the backseat on the opposite side of the car. Not that he was watching her ass in the rearview as she climbed out or anything. It wasn't just her mouth he'd like to…

 _For fucks sake._ Silently cursing his obstinate brain, Dean stepped out of the car, slamming the door a little harder than strictly necessary. A hand trailing along the sleek black hood, he silently apologized for the rough treatment as he walked around to join Sam and Skye on the sidewalk.

"What are we even doing this for?" Arms crossed and an expression on his face like he'd just bitten into a lemon, Sam leaned against the car and examined the house that sat atop the sloping lawn. "The coordinates point to Blackwater Ridge, what are we doing trying to talk to this girl? Let's go find Dad."

"I just thought maybe we should know what we're walkin' into before we walk into it." With a cold smile, Dean reached into the inner-breast pocket of his leather jacket and produced three rather fantastic plastic IDs, even if he did say so himself. And he would have, too, but nobody seemed much in the mood to listen. Picking out the one with Sam's stupid mug smiling out at him, Dean flipped it into Sam's hands, gratified when Sam had to scramble not to drop it. "Here, hot off the presses."

"Praemonitus praemunitus."

Skye's voice drifted over from where she stood at the edge of the sidewalk as she glanced back at them and briefly locked eyes with Dean, a faint smile tracing the edges of her lips before she returned to examining the neighborhood. He couldn't tell if her fidgeting—the way she kept bouncing up onto the toes of her boots before rocking back on her heels—was due to another attack of nerves or just a little excess energy from being stuck in the car for the last couple of days.

"Forewarned is forearmed."

"Yeah, Sam, I know." Apparently Sam had taken the puzzled look on his face for a lack of understanding. As if they hadn't both been reading Latin for years. Not incredibly well, but he wasn't stupid. Skyler, though, why the hell would she know Latin? It wasn't a dead language for nothing. Raising his voice enough to be assured that he was overheard, Dean couldn't resist teasing Skyler just a little bit. "I was just surprised Tink spoke a language that didn't come straight out of Star Trek."

"I should never have told you I speak Klingon." Slowly turning on a heel to face him, Skye crossed her arms and shot him a dirty look, blowing out an exasperated breath that stirred the strands of hair she'd worked loose from the braid that lay draped over her shoulder. "And no, for the record, I don't speak Latin. I just know a few phrases, like 'tempus fugit' or 'in flagrante delicto'..."

The annoyance in her eyes evaporated as she gave Dean an appraising look that seemed to take in every tiny detail, from the scuff on his boots to the brass amulet around his neck. Her lips twitching into an insolent smile, she shook her head, a mocking edge lacing her words, "Or maybe 'caveat emptor'."

"Smartass." 'Buyer beware' indeed. Although…Answering her insolent smile with one of his own, Dean gave Skye an equally thorough examination that took in everything from the jeans that clung to her legs just a little too closely to be pure denim to the black tank-top that showed a flash of smooth, pale stomach when she moved before dragging his eyes up to meet hers. "Unless that means you're lookin' to buy?"

Chuckling at the expected hand gesture that earned him, Dean's laughter quickly turned into a purely internal sigh as he caught Sam's eye roll out in his peripheral vision. Not that he could blame the guy for being a cranky dick, all things considered, but there was only room for one obstinate asshole in the group at a time and damned if Dean was going to give up the title without a fight. "And you, since when are you all 'shoot first and ask questions later' anyway?"

"Not to get up in the middle of this all uninvited, but I gotta go with Dean on this one." Sometimes support comes from unexpected sources, like the bratty teenager who'd spent half the morning torturing him by forcing him to listen to Theory of a Deadman and Halsey. ' _Alternative rock' my ass._ He should never have got her that tape adapter for her discman, but it'd just made her so damn _happy…_

"Come on, Sam. What if this guy is in trouble?" " Skye smiled, a real smile this time, letting that sarcasm-studded armor of hers slip for a second as she looked up at Sam. Dean had read the term 'doe-eyed' before, but he'd never have used it to actually describe someone before. _I would now._ "What if-what if there's somethin' out there hurtin' people, like back in Jericho? What if he needs your help?"

If Dean didn't know better—and he didn't—he'd swear she was sincerely concerned about this complete stranger that they weren't even sure was in any kind of real danger. Of course, he'd also seen her excuse herself to go sniffle in the bathroom after a particularly wrenching ASPCA commercial, so maybe that wasn't terribly surprising after all.

"Okay, fine. I get it, just-" With a sigh, Sam ran a hand through hair that could really use a meet and greet with a pair of clippers, his mulish expression slowly replaced with resignation. "Just stop looking at me like that."

Dean couldn't exactly blame the guy for giving in, it wasn't easy to say no to that face when she was looking up at you like that. As Dean could attest from personal experience, it was kind of like kicking a puppy and then slaughtering its mother. _It's fighting dirty, is what it is._ It was also pretty damn funny, just so long as she was doing it to Sam and not him.

"And what are _you_ laughing at?"

"Nothin'." Clearing his throat, Dean quickly swallowed the chuckle caught in the back of his throat, unaware his laughter hadn't been purely internal until Sam called him on it. "It's just nice to have someone on my side for a change."

Crossing her arms Skye tossed her braid back over her shoulder with a shake of her head, a move that was becoming as familiar as her laugh or her the way she rolled her eyes whenever he said something stupid. _Which is often._ "In the immortal words of Susan Bunch, 'Don't look so surprised, I'm a lovely person'."

 _Oh, goddammit. "..._ Who?"

"Ooo, that's a point for me." Untangling her arms long enough to hold up a single finger to mark a tally in the air, she looked entirely too pleased with herself as he gestured for her to explain the reference. It didn't count if she couldn't back it up. "It's Ross's ex-wife on Friends." She crossed her arms again, cocking her head to the side, smiling just a touch too brightly. "That makes what now? Eight to nine, in my favor?"

"What, we're keeping track now?" Ignoring Sam's impatient muttering and eye-rolling next to him, Dean held out the last ID to Skye, beckoning her forward only to dangle it just out of reach for a second, forcing her to look up and meet his eyes. "And I'm pretty sure it's eleven to nine, in _my_ favor." He was actually pretty sure they were both wrong, but that wasn't the point. With a grin, he dropped the flat plastic into her outstretched palm. "You ready for this?"

"I'm never ready for anything, but that hasn't stopped me yet-"

He could definitely believe that-

"Wait, does that say _Junior Ranger?_ Are you fuckin' _kidding me_ , Winchester? I changed my mind, Sam's right, we should just go-"

 _Well, that was nice while it lasted._ Swallowing a chuckle, Dean held up a hand to cut her off before she could really get going. With a gesture that took in the house in front of them—and presumably it's occupants—Dean herded both the exasperated Pixie and the cranky-ass freak-of-nature up the walkway toward the front door. "Alright, we got shit to do and standing out here bitchin' 'til dark ain't on the list."

"Do you hear the way he's talkin' to us, Sasquatch?"

"I do." Sam took the lead as they stepped onto the small front patio, grinning down at Skyler, though the smile didn't come close to reaching his eyes. "Have you considered smothering him in his sleep?"

"On an almost hourly basis since the day we met…"

* * *

Hands tucked firmly into the pockets of her jacket, Skyler held herself as still as she could, unwilling to give away how hard she was squirming on the inside by doing the same on the out. It was bad enough Dean seemed to be able to see right through her more with every passing day, she didn't need to come off as anymore of an anxious freak than she was sure she already did.

Closing her eyes as Dean raised a hand to bang on the screen door, she took a deep breath, unable to keep from wincing at the too-loud sound that seemed to bounce around inside her skull. _Open up, this is the Police._ Seriously, did he _have_ to do it that way.

 _On the other hand, it_ _ **is**_ _pretty effective._ Or at least it seemed that way, considering the front door was cracked open not sixty seconds later by a brunette with dark blue eyes and a cynical expression. "Can I help you?"

"Hailey Collins?" Taking a step back, Dean edged Skye right off the patio and into Sam's arms, not that Dean seemed to notice. Or he'd done it on purpose. Dean had stifled enough giggles in the last week for her to recognize that way his lips quivered when he was holding it in. _Definitely ice water in the shower._ "I'm Dean, and this is Sam and Skyler. We're Rangers with the Park Service. Ranger Wilkinson sent us over. We'd like to ask you some questions about your brother, Tommy."

Reaching out a steadying hand, Sam caught Skye's eye with a conspiratorial smile that seemed to convey something along the lines of 'do you want to stab him first or do you want me to'. Of course, the subtle knife-in-the-back hand gesture may have helped the translation some.

"Can I see some ID?" Squinting through the screen door, Hailey scrutinized each of them in turn as they all pulled out the IDs Dean had made—literally still warm from the printer—and presented them. To no one's surprise—least of all Skyler's—Hailey's eyes settled on her and that cynical look turned downright skeptical. _Great. "You're_ with the Parks Service."

"She's a 'junior ranger'." Before Skyler could answer for herself, Dean nosed right in, looking just as pleased as punch. _Like the punch he's going to get right in his fucking nose_. "Kinda like an intern. You know, gets the coffee and files the paperwork."

"Alright, come on in." Pushing open the screen door, Hailey caught a glimpse of the Impala parked at the curb as Sam and Skye stepped past her into the house. Nodding toward the car, Hailey smiled at Dean, that cynical smile turning to something else entirely. Like interest, maybe _._ "That yours?" At Dean's affirmative nod, Hailey's smile widened. _Maybe, my ass. That is definitely interest, and not in the car. "_ Nice car."

And did he _have_ to smile back at her like that?

"Thanks."


	5. That Hailey Girl

Trailing after the others as they entered the house—Hailey leading them through the living room to the small dining area tucked between it and the kitchen—Skye had the opportunity to take a good look around. The house was two-story, maybe from the ‘50s with knick knacks and pictures on every surface and wall. Clean and comfortable, cozy even, but worn and well-mended. Not a bad place, and she couldn’t help but think, however briefly, about how it would have been to grow up someplace like this with a loving family around her. Ah well, no point in dwelling, that never did anyone any good.

“Ben, this is Dean, Sam and Skye.” Walking around the small dining room table, just big enough for four, Hailey introduced the dark-haired teenager that sat with a clean plate in front of him and a sullen look on him before she stepped through the open door into the kitchen, her voice easily audible as she grabbed the dinner they’d obviously interrupted. Spaghetti and garlic bread from the smell of it. “They’re with the Parks Service and want to ask us some questions about Tommy.”

“Great.“ The kid— _Ben_ , Skye reminded herself, not that she was terribly likely to forget—didn’t do more than glance up at the three of them, sounding just as sullen as he looked. 

Without any kind of preamble, Sam got down to business, his impatience and general cranky attitude apparent in every syllable and that’s not even getting into body language territory. “When did Tommy tell you he was coming back?”

“The 24th.” Hailey set a large blue-and-white ceramic bowl down in the middle of the table, wiping her hands on her jeans and giving Sam a look that Skye could only interpret as ‘ _really_ dude’. “And before you say the same thing Wilkins did, he checks in daily by cell.” Wrapping her hands around the back of Ben’s chair, Hailey tossed her hair out of her eyes, a vaguely indulgent smile on her lips. “And he’s always sending thing like emails and photos, or these stupid little videos…” 

Hailey’s voice thickened and she was forced to pause and clear her throat before she could continue, “We haven’t heard anything from him in three days.”

The fear and worry in Hailey’s voice made Skye’s chest hurt and she was forced to blink a few times to clear the sting in her eyes. She didn’t tear up in front of people, _ever_ , and she wasn’t going to start now.

“How’s the cell service out there?” Skye found herself piping up from her spot at the back of the room where she could have just been quiet and easily forgotten but nope, her mouth tended to act before her brain could catch up. Not a surprising fact to anyone that had ever actually gotten to know her even a little. Which was, as of that point in time, all of like six people ever. And two of those were in this room. _Man, I need a life._ “Maybe he just can’t get a signal.”

Shaking her head, Hailey quickly shot the thought down as she filled Ben’s plate with enough spaghetti and garlic bread for a small, malnourished army. “He also carries a satellite phone.”

Alright, well, there went that idea. No wonder Hailey was freaked. If Skye had a brother and he was missing in the middle of that giant-ass forest and nobody seemed to be doing a damn thing about it, she’d be pretty freaked at this point, too.

“Could he be havin’ fun and just forgot to check in?” Arms crossed, Dean looked like he was more than a little skeptical of Hailey’s reasoning, which was all kinds of fucked considering he was the one that had insisted they come see Hailey in the first place. _The man needs to make up his damn mind._

"He wouldn't do that." Metal clinked against china as Ben dropped his fork, and Skye looked up to see him glaring up at Dean as if Dean had said something horribly offensive. Not like Dean _didn’t_ say horribly offensive things, and on a fairly regular basis, but this wasn’t one of those times.

"Our parents are gone and it’s just my two brothers and me.” A hand on Ben’s shoulder, Hailey smiled affectionately down at her little brother, and her chest hitched as she sighed. "We keep pretty close tabs on each other."

Chewing on his lower lip, Sam nodded thoughtfully before he spoke up, looking a little less resentful of being there than he had when they’d walked in. _Still needs a nap, though._ "Can we see the pictures he sent you?"

* * *

Feeling more than a little out of place, Skye hung back as Hailey took Sam and Dean into the other room so she could pull the videos and things Tommy had sent them from Blackwater. It wasn’t like they just disappeared or anything, they were still in her line of sight, but that didn’t really make her any more comfortable being left alone with Sullen Ben. At least she could keep her feelings about it mostly on the inside behind a friendly smile and a little conscious attention to body language. Ben, however, could do no such thing. _He’s going to stare a hole right through his plate._

“I’m sorry we interrupted your dinner.” Ben finally glanced up when she pulled out the chair nearest his and sat down without so much as a ‘May I’. Lacing her hands together on the table, Skye relaxed a little and her smile turned a touch more genuine as she watched the boy fidget. He was looking everywhere but at her and it was adorable in a socially awkward kind of way. “Your name’s Ben, right? I’m Skye.”

“Yeah.” Nodding an affirmative, Ben took the opportunity to viciously stab at the noodles on his plate before twisting them around and around on his fork, though so far he had yet to eat a single bite. His nostrils flared as he took a deep breath, finally looking up and meeting her eyes with an expression every bit as cynical as his sister’s. “Are you-are you really with the Parks Service?”

“That’s what they tell me.” 

Ben gave up all pretense of eating the food in front of him and put his fork down, tucking his hands in his lap as he leaned back and gave her a closer examination. “...how old are you?”

“Don’t you know you’re not supposed to ask a girl that question? It’s rude.” Not that Skye ever really understood why it was supposed to be rude, but it was a convenient way to dodge the question for a few seconds while she figured out whether or not she should tell the truth or lie through her teeth. On the one hand, she’d be more believable as a ‘Ranger’ if she were older. On the other hand, Ben might be more comfortable if he knew she was barely old enough to buy porn. _Sigh_. “I’m eighteen, be nineteen next month.” 

Reaching over to Ben’s neglected dinner, she repaid him for the rude question by snagging the garlic bread right off his plate and sat back, grinning unrepentantly as Ben made a wordless noise of protest at the theft. “Consider it payment for askin’ rude questions. Besides, it’s not like you were eatin’ it. Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to play with your food?”

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you stealing is wrong?” Visibly relaxing, Ben finally managed to return her smile as he sat back and picked up his fork again. Pointing at the bowl of noodles and sauce with the utensil in his hand, he gestured to the empty plate on the other side of him, likely meant for Hailey. “You can have some, if you want. Hailey won’t mind, she always makes a ton.”

“You know, I haven’t had spaghetti in ages. I’d love some.”

* * *

Sam settled into the chair in front of the computer, leaning aside so Hailey could reach over him to pull up her email. Within a few flicks, she was scrolling through dozens of pictures and videos. She hadn’t been kidding when she’d said he liked to send a lot of stupid little things. With a final click, she relinquished the mouse as the last video queued and started to play. 

With a click of a fingernail on glass, she tapped the screen, pointing out a decent-looking (if scruffy) young man in his early-twenties sitting in the middle of a tan tent. “That’s Tommy, this is the last video he sent.”

“ _Hey Hailey. Day six. We’re still out near Blackwater Ridge. Just wanted to tell you we’re fine and keeping safe, so don’t worry, okay? Talk to you tomorrow.”_

Tommy’s voice came through the low-quality speakers, a little tinny maybe, but perfectly audible and the video was as clear as could be on the kind of equipment your average hiker carried. From what Sam could see, he certainly looked happy and healthy enough. Still, there was something about the video that bugged Sam. He just couldn’t quite put his finger on what. "You mind if I forward these to my email?"

"Go ahead." 

Hailey quickly moved aside so Dean could get to the screen. Not that Dean seemed to be paying any attention to it; his eyes were glued to the two giggling at the dining room table like it was half-price night at the local strip club. “What is so funny?”

Tilting back in his chair, Sam paused in his efforts to forward the videos and gave Dean a long look that was admittedly on the annoyed side. Was he really jealous of some skinny high school kid Skye had just met? _For fucks sake._ “Seriously?”

“Shut up.” Straightening, Dean cleared his throat and somehow managed to drag his attention off his crush and back to Hailey and the job at hand. “Look, we’re headin’ out to Blackwater Ridge first thing in the morning. We’ll find your brother.”

“Then I guess we’ll see you there.” Hailey shook her shoulder-length hair out of her eyes, crossing her arms in a defensive gesture that she likely wasn’t aware of. Most people weren’t, at least in Sam’s experience. “I can’t sit around here anymore so I hired a guide. We’re heading out in the morning.”

_Great, this is sure to go well._


	6. Bigfoot Bitchfest

Booted feet crossed at the ankle, Dean leaned back against the headboard with the TV remote in hand, clicking through channel after channel. Not that he was paying attention to anything on the screen, not when there was something much more entertaining just a few feet away. Skyler had a tendency to dance around when she was doing, well, just about anything really. If her earbuds were in, she was moving (and singing along), and it was rapidly becoming Dean’s favorite show. 

What he was less than fond of was the fact that she kept stopping to take her phone out of her pocket and text because it kept going off every two minutes. And he had a feeling it wasn’t Anthony she was talking to, and it certainly wasn’t Sam because he was sitting on the other bed clacking away on his laptop with his headphones on ignoring everything that wasn’t a computer screen.

Picking up the pillow next to him and lobbing it across the room, it caught Skyler in the back as she stood in front of the flimsy wooden table that was pushed into the far corner. It was a good way to get her attention. Of course, it was also a good way to get a pillow to the face. Probably a good thing he hadn’t thrown anything else, the girl had good aim. 

With a smile that hopefully felt more strained than it looked, Dean knocked her return fire away and waited until she took her earbuds out, knowing full well she listened to her music at absurd volumes and couldn’t possibly have heard him before then. “Who you talkin’ to?”

“You ask like it’s any of your business.” The words themselves might have been a bit on the bitchy side but her tone was warm and teasing with what he was ninety-nine percent sure was genuine affection. He couldn’t help but relax as it washed over him. Right up until she actually answered the question. “It’s Ben, if you must know.”

“Ben?” It took Dean entirely too long to process that one. No doubt it would have been considerably quicker if he’d bother to actually learn the kids name but he hadn’t been paying attention when he’d been introduced. Seemed to be a running theme these days. _Not a good habit to get into if I want to make it to my next birthday….and why the hell is she talking to_ ** _him_** _?_ Not that Dean was totally sure he wanted to know the answer to that. “Hailey’s little brother, Ben?” 

Leaning back against the table that she’d dumped her backpack out on, Skye crossed her arms and gave him a long look that Dean chose to interpret as ‘you’re an endearing dumbass’ and not ‘you’re a complete fucking moron’ before answering. “No, Ben Affleck. He’s wondering when we can swing by for dinner with him and Jennifer Garner.” 

“Cute.” Also obnoxious, but that was basically a given at this point. Not that he was complaining. At least, not at the moment. He sure as hell might later, though. “So what are you and Ben Affleck talkin’ about?”

“Bigfoot.” 

“Bigfoot?” Tossing the remote onto the mattress next to him, Dean slid down to sit at the foot of the bed. If she didn’t have his full attention before, she certainly did now. This should be good. “Alright, I gotta ask. Why Bigfoot?”

“Because that’s his going theory about whatever is out at Blackwater. It’s adorable.” She started to turn back to the table to continue whatever in the hell it was she was doing but paused, a thoughtful look on her face as she slowly turned back around and shot him a questioning look. “Wait, is Bigfoot a thing?”

“Not as far as I know.” Did she really think that kid was adorable? Like, in what way? An ‘he’s an adorable kid’ kind of way or…  _ Alright, that’s enough of that.  _ “Is that what you two were gigglin’ about over dinner?”

Her self-appointed chore apparently forgotten, Skye reached down to the discman clipped to her jeans and cut off the music, lips pursed as her eyes narrowed in Dean’s direction. “Okay, first off, I don’t  _ giggle _ -”

In spite of the steady click of his keyboard, Dean had almost forgotten Sam was in the room until he spoke up, getting out a single word through a choked giggle of his own. “ _ Bullshit. _ ” 

Which was only fair. She did giggle. A  _ lot _ . Personally, Dean was a fan. Skyler, however, didn’t seem to appreciate that in the slightest. “Nobody asked you, Gigantor.” 

With a huff that blew a few stray strands of dark hair out of dark eyes, her spark of annoyance faded, shifting to a smug smirk that was equal parts endearing and infuriating. “Second of all, I was working. Just like you.” And there the smirk went, replaced with a wicked little smile that seemed to raise the temperature of the room a good ten degrees. “And third, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous. Are you jealous, Winchester?”

Like he was really going to answer that. All he could do was deny it and she’d proven more than once she could tell when he was lying. He might be a dumbass once in awhile, but he wasn’t stupid. Better to just side-step the issue altogether, which was done easily enough. Well, as long as she didn’t press the issue.  _ Definitely time to change the subject.  _ “Working, huh? You find out anything?”

“Other than Ben’s adorably awkward and Hailey makes pretty decent spaghetti? No, not really.” Pulling out one of the chairs tucked against the table, Skye spun it around and sat backward, arms crossed over the backrest. “There’s been rumors about that area since forever, apparently, but nothing solid. Kids’ll go out there to party and spot things like claw marks and footprints, but nobody ever actually  _ sees _ anything.” 

There was that word again, snagging on Dean’s thoughts and yanking them far away from where they should be. Before he could stop himself, he found his mouth voicing those thoughts aloud. “You really think he’s adorable?”

“Way to focus on the important bit.” Propping her chin on her crossed arms, she smiled in that particular way she had that wrinkled her nose and brought out the little crinkles by her eyes. “Don’t worry, Winchester, he’s a little young for me.”

The butterflies in his stomach that were a near-constant these days sprouted into a full-on swarm that threatened to flutter up and fog his brain.  _ Nobody should be allowed to be that cute. It’s got to be a crime. _ “So you’re into older men, then?”

“I am now.”

“You two realize that you’re disturbed on a deeply fundamental level, right?” It wasn’t often her flirting turned that blatant and go figure Sam would just  _ have _ to shove his nose in right then.  _ Phenomenal timing, asshole.  _

“You’re just jealous ‘cause I have better hair.” With an exaggerated huff, Skye tossed her braid over her shoulder with a shake of her head and stuck her nose in the air, trying to pull off haughty. She might have succeeded, too, if she weren’t trying so hard not to grin. 

“No, you just have more of it.” Sam finally removed his headphones and looked up, smiling in a strained way that didn’t reach his eyes as he inclined his head toward his computer screen. “You two want to know what I found or do you need to flirt a little more first?”

“We weren’t-”

“That’s not-”

“Yeah, okay.” Raising a hand, Sam cut the both of them off as they started trying to protest their innocence, not that either of them were trying terribly hard. Clearing his throat, Sam brushed off the entire conversation and got straight to the point as he turned the laptop screen so they could see it. “So, Blackwater Ridge doesn’t get a lot of traffic. It’s usually mostly local campers. Still, this past April, two hikers went missing out there and were never found.”

Shifting to the side of the bed closest to Sam so he could get a look at the screen, Dean skimmed the article Sam had found before glancing over at his brother. "What about before that?"

"Yeah, back in 1982, eight different people all vanished in the same year-"

"Kinda hard for eight of the same person to vanish in the same year." Pushing away from the table, Skyler walked over to sit on the bed next to Dean and smiled innocently, as if she hadn’t just popped off with a horrible joke that would make any Dad proud. “What?”

"As I was saying..." Sam rolled his eyes before continuing, looking like he was losing a little more patience every time they opened their mouths. "Authorities said it was a grizzly attack.” Spinning the laptop back around to face him, Sam clicked a few more keys and brought up the other articles he’d found before turning it back toward them. “And then again in 1959, and before that in 1936."

“Every twenty-three years? Yeah, I’m sure that’s just a coincidence.”

“And here’s the clincher.” Ignoring Skye this time, Sam slid to the edge of his bed and balanced the laptop on his knees with the screen facing Dean and pushed play. 

The video Hailey had shown them earlier started about halfway through and if Dean hadn’t been paying very close attention, he’d never have seen the large, dark shadow dart across the back of the tent behind Tommy. Narrowing his eyes, he slid to perch on the edge of the mattress and peered intently at the screen as he motioned for Sam to rewind. "Do it again."

Quick to oblige, Sam looped it back and hit play as Skye and Dean watched the figure again, the large blur moving across the screen almost faster than the eye could follow. "That's three frames." 

Elbows on her knees in imitation of Dean’s pose—whether conscious or not—Skye reached up to twine a few strands of hair around a finger as she watched the screen with the same kind of intensity Dean usually used to watch  _ her _ . “...fuck me.” 

_ If only… _ But he understood the sentiment, even if it wasn’t quite the one he wished it was. Three frames was a fraction of a second. Whatever the hell that thing was, it could  _ move _ . Briefly closing his eyes as a damn near irresistible urge to reach for her hand hit him—so sudden and so strong his own hand twitched—Dean shook his head. “I told you something weird was goin’ on. Anything else?”

“Saved the best for last.” With a smile that was the closest thing to sincere that Dean had seen in days, Sam closed out the email and pulled up a tab, another news article splashed across the page. “In ‘59, one camper survived the supposed ‘grizzly attack’. Stephen Shaw. He was just a kid at the time, barely crawled out of the woods alive. I checked, he’s still alive, living here in town, and is in an apartment complex just a few blocks from here.”

“Good job, Sammy.” Hands on his knees, Dean pushed himself up as Sam powered down his laptop. “Let’s go pay him a visit.”

With a sound that Dean couldn’t quite pinpoint the meaning of, though he was sure it wasn’t flattering, Skye did the opposite of what he’d expected. Instead of getting up and grabbing her things, she just laid back on the bed with her weight on her elbows and looked up at him and Sam like they’d lost their damn minds. “Are you two serious right now?”

_ Oh, what now _ . “...yes?” 

Again, instead of  _ getting up _ , she lay all the way down and clasped her hands on her stomach, showing no indication whatsoever that she was going to do what he wanted. A half-smile tugging at one corner of her lips, she just shook her head and repeated that unflattering noise. “What time is it, Dean?”

“Uh-” Not really seeing the point of the question but willing to humor her for two seconds, Dean glanced at the chunky piece of black plastic on his wrist. “Little after ten...why?”

“And you seriously don’t see anything wrong with goin’ and bangin’ on some poor old man’s door at ten o’clock at night?” Exasperation. Amused exasperation. That’s what that sound was. The literal facepalm went a long way toward clearing that up. “Sam, little help here?”

“She’s got a point, Dean. It is getting kind of late.”

“You’re serious.” Rolling his eyes, Dean rubbed his forehead for a second and took a second to try and remember why he’d ever thought picking Sam up from Stanford would be a good idea. Now it was two of them ganging up on him when just the one had been more than enough. “ _ Fantastic _ .”

“Sam said he’s just a few blocks away.” Skye pushed herself back up, smiling up at him in a placating kind of way that he wasn’t a big fan of. Mostly because it was working. “We can get up a little earlier than planned and stop by to talk to him on the way to Blackwater.” 

“Sounds good to me.”

“Great.” With a sigh that was more resignation than irritation, Dean scrubbed a hand over his face and wondered if this was what the rest of his life was going to be like and found he kind of liked the idea. The simple fact that that thought wasn’t as absolutely terrifying as it should have been was in and of itself a little alarming. Or would have been if he hadn’t spent the last week coming to grips with it. “Well, if we’re gonna have to get up at the ass-crack of dawn because Tinkerbell here doesn’t wanna be  _ rude _ , then-”

Blinking up at Dean for a long moment before turning her gaze to Sam, Skye grinned and shook her head in disbelief. “Is he seriously mad at me for havin’ manners?”

“I think so, yeah.” Sam set his laptop down on the nightstand wedged between the two mattresses and grabbed his boots, sitting down to pull them on with an expression on his face that Dean couldn’t quite read. Whatever it was, it wasn’t good. “Are we going to go grab our gear or are you two going to continue with your tenth bitchfest of the day?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Arms crossed, Dean raised a brow at the edge in Sam’s voice as Sam grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. Looking down at Skye, Dean shrugged a shoulder, brushing off his brother’s attitude problem. For now, anyway. “We get along just fine.”

“No idea. Maybe sleep deprivation is making him delusional.” The smile on Skye’s lips faded as Sam stepped outside, her voice lowering enough that there was no way she’d be overheard. “I’m really gettin’ worried about him, Dean.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

* * *

The streetlights half a block up did next to nothing to illuminate the alley running alongside the ramshackle motel Dean had found on the outskirts of town. To Dean’s way of thinking, the more rundown and neglected, the better. Personally, Sam preferred a place with guaranteed hot water and rooms that were regularly cleaned. Not that what Sam wanted counted for much these days.

“You know we can’t let Hailey and Ben go out there.” Not the first time Sam had voiced a similar thought in the last hour. Of course, none of those times had been listened to, either, and he didn’t hold out much hope for this one. He’d almost forgotten how bossy and domineering Dean could get and it got old real fast. “Isn’t it bad enough we have to babysit Punky Brewster?”

“Better not let her hear you say that.” Dean’s voice floated out from the trunk, where he stood shoulder deep in his own personal armory as he methodically packed an old Army duffel with enough guns and weaponry to take down a small Midwestern town. 

Pulling his head out of the trunk, Dean glanced over at Sam as he checked the clip in his .45 before stashing it in the duffel along with the others. “What can we do about it? Tell ‘em they can’t go into the woods because there might be a big, scary monster?”

“Yeah, Dean-” Tucking his hands deep into the pockets of his tan jacket, Sam leaned a knee against the bumper and tried unsuccessfully to keep his annoyance out of his voice.  _ He can’t even just stop and listen for five fucking minutes. _ “That’s exactly what we could tell them.”

“Because anyone ever believes that until the monster is taking toes for hors d’oeuvres.” The scoffing was bad enough, did Dean really have to roll his eyes, too? He’d been dismissing Sam all damn day and this seriously wasn’t helping. “Their brother’s missing, Sam, they’re not just gonna sit this one out.” Dean finally had the decency to set his bag down, turning to address Sam directly. “So, we go and we protect ‘em and we keep our eyes peeled for our fuzzy predator friend.” 

Sam went quiet, trying to figure out why exactly Dean was so dead-set on taking a handful of completely unprepared civilians out into the middle of nowhere when they should have headed out there hours ago to try to find their missing—and possibly dead—father. He didn’t particularly like the conclusion he came to. “...do you even want to find Dad?”

“Of course I do, Sam. Why the hell wouldn’t I?”

_ “ _ Seriously?” Sam’s gaze slid toward the motel room door a few yards away and back to Dean, making his point pretty damn clear. “You  _ know _ why.”

“That’s-” Lips pressed into a thin line, Dean shook his head, as if that were just about the stupidest thing he’d ever heard. Too bad for him Sam had learned to read Dean like a book two decades ago. If he hadn’t, Sam might have missed the split second of hesitation before Dean turned back to the duffel bag in the trunk, refusing to meet Sam’s eyes. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Me? What the hell is wrong with  _ you _ ?” Not that Sam wasn’t pretty sure he knew the answer to that question, but it felt pretty good to actually say it. He  _ knew _ it wasn’t fair, he  _ knew _ it wasn’t their fault, but watching the two of them bitch and flirt and make eyes at each other for the last week had been like salt in a gaping wound. “You’ve been dragging your feet for the last week-”

“That’s enough, Sam...” 

Dean slammed the duffel bag down, his tone taking on a warning note but Sam was long past caring as he gave vent to the anger and frustration that had been building over the last few days. “-because you’re too busy sniffing after her like she’s a bitch in heat because you’re just hoping to get your dick wet. Just fuck her and  _ get it over with already _ .”

“I said  _ that’s enough. _ ” Between one breath and the next, Sam found himself slammed against the brick wall of the motel with enough force to leave a bruise or two as Dean growled in his face. Sam had been expecting something of the sort, but the sheer cold rage in Dean’s eyes shook him, leaving no trace of doubt that Dean meant every word. “I know you’re goin’ through some shit right now, and I’m sorry for that. I truly am. But if you  _ ever _ talk about her like that again, I will knock your ass out. Are we clear?”

“...holy shit. You’re in love with her, aren’t you?” The words slipped out before Sam could stop them, caught off guard by the sudden realization that this really wasn’t what he’d thought. It wasn’t just a passing crush on Dean’s part, or a purely physical attraction. Holy shit, indeed. “You  _ are _ . Jesus  _ Christ _ , Dean.” Even more shocking was that Dean didn’t deny it. No ‘that’s stupid’ or ‘you’re being ridiculous’, just acceptance and if anything, that was scarier than Dean threatening to kick his teeth in. “You’ve known her for a whole  _ two weeks  _ and she’s  _ eighteen _ . What the fuck are you  _ thinking _ ?”

“You think I don’t realize that? That I haven’t spent the last  _ week _ -” Releasing his hold on Sam’s shirt, Dean took a step back, his nostrils flaring as he took a deep breath and the muscle in his jaw slowly stopped twitching. “You know what, I’m not talking about this. Not right now and not with you.”

“And I think maybe it’s best if you go get your own room tonight.” Dean grabbed the duffel bag out of the trunk before slamming the lid hard enough to echo down the alley. Slipping the strap over a shoulder, he brushed past Sam with enough force to knock him back a step as he headed toward the room they’d already paid for. “Go get some sleep, Sam.”


	7. Chinks in the Armor

"-no, it's just for a couple of days. I'll call as soon as we get back into town."

Kicking the door closed to slam behind him, Dean winced when he realized Skye was on the phone and mouthed a silent apology. He got a smile in return, and a raised brow at the duffel bag as he set it on the table, the clink and rattle a muffled testimony to the small arsenal inside.

"Yeah. Thanks, Roz. Give Grandma a hug for me, okay?"

_Roz...Beatrice's nurses aide. Right._ It took Dean a second to remember who Roz was simply because Skye had only mentioned her once or twice. She didn't tend to talk about her Grandmother much. Not because she didn't care, but because she did. It was sweet, in a horribly sad kind of way and it wasn't easy for Dean to ignore the sympathetic ache in his chest.

"I will, I promise." With one last reassurance to the woman on the other end, Skye ended the call and flipped her phone closed before sagging back against the headboard with her eyes closed.

"You alright?"

"Just peachy, thanks for askin'." Opening her eyes, Skye shrugged a slim shoulder and took a deep breath, a wry smile on her lips and as she pretended her eyes weren't watering and she wasn't upset. Not that she was fooling anyone, but it was a valiant effort. "Just been a long day."

"Uh-huh." Unzipping the duffel bag, Dean turned away to give her a second of pseudo-privacy when that was the last thing he wanted to do. He _wanted_ to go over to her and hold her and tell her everything was going to be okay, wanted it so bad it made it hard to breathe sometimes, but she didn't need empty platitudes and she _certainly_ didn't need a panic attack because _he_ wanted to see if they'd fit together as well as he thought they would. Not terribly surprising that Sam had figured it out so quick. _I've never been the subtle type._ "How's Beatrice?"

"Oh, you know, doin' great." Clearing her throat, it took her a second to continue, the pain in her voice evident to anyone with even the faintest shred of empathy. "She uh-she had a bad day. Apparently she bit one of the orderlies a couple hours ago and he had to go get a tetanus shot." She closed her eyes again, the back of her head thumping rhythmically against the headboard behind her. "She's-she's going downhill real fast. Losing weight. Can't string together a full sentence. Can't even remember to take a drink of water once in awhile. ...Roz says the doctor thinks she's got maybe a few months left, if that."

"You know, when we're done here, we could head back down that way to see her." Sam would probably throw a hissy fit, but fuck Sam, he could eat a dick. "It's only about a day's drive."

"That's-" The head-thumping ceased and she opened her eyes again and gave Dean the kind of look that made him about ninety percent sure that just maybe this whole thing wasn't creepily one-sided. In fact, she tended to look at him like he looked at pie and it was kind of a nice feeling. Scary, but nice, even in otherwise rotten circumstances. "Thank you, but it's-" She brushed a few stray strands of hair out of her eyes as she slid to the edge of the bed and got to her feet, walking the few steps over to the table. Avoiding Dean's eyes, she started clearing her things away to free up some space for him to unpack his bag. "She doesn't even know who I am. Hell, she doesn't even know I exist anymore and I just-"

She abruptly went quiet and turned away so Dean wouldn't see her tear up again. _Who do you think you're fooling, Tinkerbell?_ Clearing her throat again, it took her a couple tries before she was able to speak again. "Anthony says hi, by the way. Of course, Anthony also thinks I'm going to a Comic-Con with my friends 'Samantha' and 'Deanna', so…" As if only just then realizing the two of them were alone in the room, she threw a questioning glance toward the door and arched a brow at him. "Where is Samantha, anyway?"

"I wonder how Anthony could have possibly gotten that idea." Dean was getting to know Skyler pretty well—or at least he'd like to think so—and there wasn't a doubt in his mind she'd somehow given Anthony that implication without ever once outright lying. _Girl's got skills_. "He decided to get his own room for the night." Swallowing the surge of anger aimed squarely at his brother and the shitty things he'd said—or maybe just the shitty way he'd said them as the things themselves really weren't wrong—Dean quickly changed the subject and nodded toward the bathroom door. "You want the shower first?"

"I would very much appreciate that, thank you." With a sigh that Dean could have sworn contained enough air for an entire NAVY Seal SCUBA team, Skye visibly relaxed and glanced over to meet his eyes with a smile before pawing through her small pile of belongings to find the pastel blue terry cloth shorts she liked to sleep in. Dean was a fan. "You didn't happen to see my nightshirt in the car? The big blue one with the clinically depressed donkey?"

"No, I didn't see your Eeyore shirt." He stifled a chuckle and shook his head, his eyes falling on his own backpack sitting on the floor by the door. "You can wear one of mine, if you want. Should certainly be big enough."

"I think I might take you up on the offer, but only 'cause I don't wanna have to go back out to the car." Might. Yeah, right. The girl didn't hesitate for a second, snagging his bag up off the floor before he'd even finished getting the words out. It was enough to make a guy blush. Almost. In less than a minute, she'd managed to find a (relatively) clean t-shirt and held it up for approval. "This one okay?"

He hesitated. Somehow she'd managed to get her hands on his favorite shirt, a gray and black Led Zeppelin tee he'd had for years that was worn thin and soft from repeated washing. Of course, that hesitation lasted about as long as it took for him to blink before it was swamped by the overwhelming desire to see her in his favorite shit. _Oh, yes please._ "Sure, that works. Just uh-be a little careful with that one, alright? I've had it for awhile and it was kind of a bitch to get."

With a pleased grin, she draped it over her arm and grabbed her shorts from where she'd left them on the table, her voice trailing behind her as she headed into the bathroom to shower and whatever else she did in there. _Do_ _ **not**_ _think about it._ "I promise, I'll be extra careful, Grandpa."

"I am _not_ -" Before he could get the last word out, the door clicked shut behind her and he was left talking to an empty room. "...old."

* * *

The light that filtered in through the thin curtains was more than enough to see by, even without the glow of the muted television Dean had left on as a nightlight, a habit he'd somehow developed over the last week that was in no way whatsoever related to the fact that Skyler was a little scared of the dark. Not that he could blame her, he wasn't a big fan either, though that tended to be more because it was a lot easier to see what was trying to eat you with a light on.

Scrubbing a hand over tired eyes, Dean rolled over and tried to find a more comfortable position. Not a real promising prospect, especially as now he was looking at the very thing keeping him awake. Not that he could actually _see_ her as, aside from a single bare leg stuck outside the not one but two comforters she was buried under—one of which she'd appropriated from _his_ bed—not a single bit of her was visible.

Dean firmly closed his eyes after spending entirely too long studying that single bare leg, stubbornly trying to shift his thoughts away from the snarky brunette sleeping just a few feet away...

" _Alright, I've got one." Skyler's voice bubbled up from out of the darkness, somehow making its way over to his side of the car through the comforter she had wrapped around her like a cocoon, leaving only her eyes visible in the worn fabric. "Samantha Stevens versus Jeannie."_

" _Jeannie, no contest."_

" _Seriously?" Pulling the blanket away from her face, she looked at him with those eyes of hers. They were warm and dark, laughing, threatening to pull him in and never let him go again. "Come on, Winchester, there's no way. Jeannie is_ _ **such**_ _a-"_

" _You tell me you have somethin' against Barbara Eden and we may have a problem."_

" _Of course I don't have anything against Barbara Eden, but Jeannie on the other hand. God, she is_ _ **such**_ _a moron. Which, you know, is what I was gonna say before being so rudely interrupted." Grinning, she wrinkled her nose, going so far as to wrestle her arm out of the mound of cloth to flick her fingers at him dismissively. "She's got the cognitive functions of a toddler, for Christ's sake. And here I'd started to think you actually had_ _ **taste**_ _."_

" _Okay, first off, Jeannie is not a moron. A little naive maybe.. And second of all, genie's have 'Phenomenal Cosmic Power'."_

_The dim glow of the streetlights filtering in through the windows cast a silver hue over her skin as she shook her head, scoffing at such nonsense. "Says who?"_

" _Robin Williams."_

" _Okay, you got me on that one, but come on! She can't even use her powers on her own and anytime she tries, she fucks everything up ." Letting the fabric fall further to bunch around her waist, she stretched languidly, her hands clasped behind her as she arched her back to ease the stiffness from sitting in one position too long. No surprise—he checked his watch—they'd been sitting out here for going on four hours now. "Now Samantha, she's got a mind of her own and she knows how to use what she's got."_

" _I wasn't done supporting my argument. Now who's interrupting?"_

_No answer, just an arched brow and a smile that lit her up like the Fourth of July as she waited patiently for him to finish._

" _...and third, she's like_ _ **really**_ _hot."_

" _Oh, yeah, that's a compelling argument, Winchester. What's she gonna do, knock Samantha out with the power of her fantastic rack?" She tossed her braid back over her shoulder with a shake of her head and leaned in a little closer to him, that glowing smile turning into something a little more teasing. "So, what you're really tellin' me is that you're into ditzy blondes..."_

"Goddammit." With a growl, Dean shoved himself upright and tossed the sheet off, swinging his legs around to sit on the edge of the bed. Elbows on his knees, he ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath. Why couldn't he get her out of his head?

Maybe he just needed to get away from her for a little while. Get away from those brown eyes and that smile and that faint trace of honeyed scent that clung to her and everything she touched and…

_And God, it'd be so much easier if Sam were wrong._

* * *

_She crouched in darkness, soaked and shivering from the constant drizzle that greyed out the world around her. Her feet slipped in the thick mud that coated the river bottom and she barely managed to get a lungful of air before she went under._

_Pushing her head back above the murky water, she tried not to make a sound as she choked on the brackish liquid. She pressed herself against the rocks at her back, heedless of any gouges digging deep into bare skin._

_It'd been tracking her for hours, keeping her scrambling to stay just ahead of it. Now, with the rain and the river to mask her scent, she had a chance. She could hear it, snuffling and rustling along the treeline just a few feet above the rocky alcove where she hid._

_Biting her lip until she tasted blood, she swallowed a whimper as the hair on the back of her neck stood on end..._

* * *

It was the rustle of fabric as Skye kicked off her comforters that drew Dean's attention out of the frustrating and disconcerting maelstrom of thoughts swirling around in his head, bringing him fully back to the present. It was the faint whimpers and the way she curled up into herself that got him to his feet. _Does she ever go a single night without a nightmare?_

"Skye." Within seconds, he was perched on the edge of her bed and calling her name. He'd learned the hard way that trying to shake her awake was a bad idea. _How someone the size of a Keebler Elf can hit that hard, I will never understand._ "Come on, Tinkerbell, wake up. It's just a bad dream."

Her eyes flew open and between one heartbeat and the next, she was wide awake with her back pressed up against the headboard, the fear and confusion in her dark eyes receding when they settled on him. "...Dean?"

"Last I checked." A slow smile stretched across his lips in spite of his best efforts to keep it away, Dean leaned back against the headboard, acutely aware of the space between them. It'd be so easy to reach over and tuck the loose strands of her dark hair behind her ear… Clearing his throat, he ruthlessly suppressed the urge, crossing his arms so he didn't inadvertently give in and do it anyway. "You okay?"

"Yeah...yeah, I'm fine. I just-" Scrubbing a hand over her face, she relaxed and sagged back against the headboard. She flashed Dean an embarrassed grin and shook her head, denying there was any kind of problem. "I'm sorry I woke you."

"I wasn't asleep." _Because I was too busy thinking about you because dumbass little brother might be an asshole, but he's not wrong and have I mentioned you have_ _ **great**_ _legs... "_ You wanna talk about it?"

"It was-It's not important." Skyler tried to shrug it off, just like she did every other thing that directly involved her and whatever might be stressing her out. A habit Dean was very familiar with, and not just because he was guilty of it on a very regular basis himself. Also not one he was willing to let her get away with—even if that did make him a big, fat hypocrite—and if her sigh and eye roll was anything to go by, it didn't take her long to catch on to that little fact. "It was just a stress dream. I was hiding in a river from a thing that was hunting me through the woods and really wanted to have me for lunch. See? Not important."

"Lost Creek really freaked you out, huh? ...you know, you don't have to go." Dean leaned over and scooped up one of the comforters she'd kicked half onto the floor, using it as a handy excuse to avoid meeting her eyes, not wanting her to maybe see how conflicted he was at the thought.

"There's uh-They've got some cabins up there that are within about ten miles of Blackwater." On the one hand, he'd really prefer she weren't in the middle of things where she could get hurt or worse. On the other, the idea of being away from her for even a couple of days was almost physically painful and much as he'd like to blame that on the memory of vomiting blood on the side of the highway, he couldn't. "You could stay in one of them until me and Sammy get back."

"And miss all the fun? Not a chance." Sliding back down onto the mattress, Skye curled up with her head on a pillow and a hand tucked under her cheek, smiling up at him like he'd just offered her a winning lottery ticket and a free trip to Jamaica. "But thank you."

"You have _got_ to stop thankin' me for every little thing. It's weird." And right on cue, he got another eye roll. Smothering a grin, Dean tugged the comforter up over her while trying not to leer like a creeper at where her legs disappeared up under the hem of the t-shirt he'd lent her. _It looks even better on her than it does on_ _ **me**_ _._ "Try and get a little more sleep, you've got about four hours til we gotta get up."

"...Dean?"

He'd started to get up to return to his own bed, but his name on her lips and her hand on his arm stopped him before he could do more than push himself away from the headboard, holding him there more securely than any pair of handcuffs ever had. _Do_ _ **not**_ _freak out just because she's touching you. You are not fourteen years old anymore. This is ridiculous._ "...yeah?"

Ridiculous or not, it would have taken a crowbar to pry him away from the feather-light touch of her fingers and the way she was looking up at him from under long lashes wasn't helping. Kind of like he was the only thing in the whole room. Maybe even the whole city. _Maybe even the whole world._ "Would you-Would you sit and talk to me until I fall back asleep? Please?"

"I think I can probably do that." Like he was going to say no. Yeah. Right. He'd sooner never eat a cheeseburger again. "Though why you'd wanna listen to me, I have no idea." Okay, not entirely true. He had a bit of an idea. It's not like he was completely stupid, after all, just mostly. _And getting more so by the minute._ "So… what the hell am I supposed to talk about?"

"Well that's up to you, now isn't it?" With a grateful smile, she curled up on her side, facing him. She wasn't quite close enough to touch, but he'd swear he could feel the warmth of her like sunlight against his skin. "And thank you."

"Stop it." Dean settled in with his back against the headboard, his hands laced tightly on his stomach to keep himself from reaching out to her in spite of his best efforts to _not do that_. "How about the time Sammy broke his arm jumpin' off the roof of the shed 'cause he thought he could fly? Though to be fair, he _was_ dressed as Superman..."


	8. Good Morning Starshine

"Rise and shine, Tinkerbell. Time to get up."

Dean's voice broke into dreams that were infinitely better than the one she'd woken from last night, bringing her fully awake with very little effort. Dreams might be good, but the real thing was better. Or at least she was pretty sure it would be if they ever got that far. _Here's to hoping._ "I'll rise, but it's a little early to shine."

"You're not wrong."

"Hey!" She finally pried her eyes open when she felt her blanket yanked away, leaving her exposed to the chilly November air that no amount of crappy motel heating could take the edge off of. Dean's chuckle rippled up her spine, wrapping around her with an entirely different kind of warmth and she looked up to find him standing next to the bed, already showered and dressed and ready for the day. _Dammit._ Not like 'just-woke-up-with-mussed-hair Dean' was something she looked forward to every morning, or 'shirtless-just-out-of-the-shower Dean'. Nope. Not at all. ... _ **Dammit**_. "I don't suppose you have coffee?"

"Nope, don't suppose I do, though if you're real nice to me I'll-"

A knock at the door interrupted before he could finish telling her what he'd do, or expanding on what 'nice' meant in this context. She had a few ideas, but sadly none of them were things that were likely to happen any time real soon. Or maybe ever. Though she seriously doubted that last bit. At least not if she had anything to say about it.

Before Skye could get up, Dean was already halfway across the room, the teasing smile on his lips turning icy as he unlocked the door and opened it to reveal Sam standing in the doorway with three large styrofoam coffee cups and a couple of paper bags. _Decided to get his own room, my ass_. She'd known something was up last night, now she was absolutely sure of it.

"Sam."

"Dean." With a smile that was more genuine than the one Dean was currently sporting, Sam stepped into the room and nudged the door closed with a booted foot. Holding up his armload of goodies, he looked past Dean to Skyler as she finally managed to eel her way off the bed and onto her feet, lured across the room with the promise of coffee. "I brought breakfast."

"We can see that."

Ignoring Dean and whatever bee had crawled up his butt, Skye flashed Sam a grateful smile as she plucked one of the cups out of his hands and inhaled the warm, bitter scent of black coffee. "Truly, you are a god among men. Thanks, Sasquatch."

"You're welcome, Midget." Dumping the bags and the last coffee cup onto the table, Sam grinned and reached out to ruffle her hair when she wasn't quite quick enough to get out of the way, earning himself a bitchy glare and a middle finger. "There's a fruit salad in one of the bags for you, thought you might like that better than donuts."

"Aww, you _do_ care." Cup in hand, Skye wasted no time in rifling through the fried-dough filled bags of diabetes to find a sealed plastic cup of fruit. Probably not the freshest, but she wasn't about to complain. Not that she didn't like donuts, but at five in the morning? _Really?_ Not that Dean minded, if the way he was currently eyeing the bags was any indication.

"Alright, boys, I'm gonna go get dressed." Shuffling the cups around, she freed up an arm so she could grab the strap of her knapsack and sling it over a shoulder. _Is it cold in here or is it just them?_ She hesitated in the bathroom doorway and turned to look back at the boys before meeting Dean's eyes, making damn sure he knew she was talking specifically to him. "Look, I don't know what happened last night, but we're about to head out into the middle of nowhere to very likely get eaten by the boogey man so… Whatever it is, fix it."

* * *

"God she's bossy. She's right, though." Hands in his pockets, Sam waited until the bathroom door was firmly closed and lowered his voice to assure he couldn't possibly be overheard from the other room, no matter how good her hearing might be. "Look, Dean, about last night-"

"Don't." Dean picked up the duffel bag he'd packed the night before and set it on the table next to the food Sam had brought, opening it up to double-check everything that Sam had no doubt he'd already gone over with a fine-toothed comb. "Just forget it."

"I don't want to forget it, Dean." Taking a hand out of his pocket long enough to brush his hair out of his eyes, Sam chewed on his lip for a second as he tried to figure out exactly what he wanted to say. After he'd had some time alone, he'd started to feel guilty about letting his temper get the best of him. Skye hadn't deserved that, even if she didn't know about it, and Dean hadn't either. Not really. "I didn't mean what I said-"

His hands flat on the table, Dean turned his head to really look at Sam for the first time since he'd walked in the room. "I know that, Sam."

"You know I like her, right?" He took a step closer to Dean, glancing at the bathroom door to make sure it was still firmly shut. The last thing he wanted was for Skye to pop out and figure out what they were talking about. "I really do. She's a good kid and you could do a hell of a lot worse."

"...I know that, too."

* * *

"Hey, you about ready?" Rapping on the bathroom door with a knuckle, Dean pitched his voice to be heard, not that there'd be any real issue with that considering he had his suspicions that the flimsy-ass 'wood' door was, in fact, some kind of painted cardboard. It seemed most motel room doors were. Okay, maybe not _literally_... "We need to get goin'."

Almost instantly, the door popped open and Skye was standing there in her usual jeans/tank-top/denim jacket with her bulging backpack slung over a shoulder. In a departure from her normal single-braid over the shoulder, she'd twisted her long hair into two identical braids. "Just gotta put my boots on."

"Nice pigtails, Pollyanna." Legs stretched out in front of him, Sam lounged in one of the creaky, mismatched kitchen chairs. How those things held his weight, Dean would never know. "You look twelve."

"I do not-"

"She _really_ doesn't-"

"Okay, okay. If you say so." Holding up his hands in surrender, Sam laughed and backed down quick enough. Good thing, too, or Dean might have had to toss his ass through a window. Skyler most certainly did _not_ look twelve, and good thing, too. Dean didn't need to feel any more like a creeper than he already did.

_The age gap is bad enough without having to sign up for the sex offender registry, thanks so much._

It didn't take long before they were heading out the door, Dean's attention landing on the leather bag Skye had slung over a shoulder that was more packed than he'd ever seen it. "What the hell you got in there?"

"Not a whole lot. Couple bottles of water, protein bars, a first aid kit-"

"Why? We got a first aid kit in the car."

"Whiskey and a box of Hello Kitty bandaids is not a first aid kit, Winchester." Tucking her hands into the pockets of her denim jacket, Skyler waited on the sidewalk next to Sam as Dean dug his car keys out. "I've also got a flashlight, extra batteries, my discman, a sweater…" Her voice started to trail off as she caught the look on his face. "What? It's November in fuckin' _Colorado_. It gets _cold_ and somehow I don't see us stoppin' off to buy a tent and sleeping bags."

"I didn't say anything." Keys in one hand, Dean stuck his other into the deep pocket of his leather jacket and pulled out a familiar yellow bag. The very last bag of Peanut M&Ms, bought half-price after Halloween. _God, I love Halloween_. Not the holiday, that sucked, but the candy on sale the day after was always awesome. "Here, stick these in there, too."

"So they can melt and get all over my stuff? I think not." Shaking her head, she laughed at him as he sighed and stuffed the bag back in his pocket. "How are you not diabetic yet?"

"Just lucky, I guess."


	9. Monstrous Memories

"Look, I don't know why you're asking me about this." Stephen Shaw looked to be at least sixty if he was a day, and not a great sixty, either. It was obvious by the nicotine-stained fingertips and the lifetime of misery lined on his face that he'd been rode hard and put away wet more than once, and the tiny little apartment stuffed full of old, worn out furniture and dusty knick-knacks didn't help the impression any.

Taking a step back, Mr. Shaw gestured for the three 'Rangers' to follow him into his home, not seeming the least bit disturbed at them invading his space but definitely disturbed by the topic. The poor man just looked so tired, so done with everything, and Skye couldn't say as she blamed him. "It's public record. My parents got mauled by a-"

"Grizzly? That's what attacked them?" Sam rudely interrupted, the skepticism in his voice so thick Skyler could have almost sworn she saw it fill the air around him. "The other people that went missing that year, those bear attacks, too?"

"What about all the people that went missing this year?" Taking his cue from Sam, Dean went straight to asshole-mode, too, not that he needed the encouragement as that was obviously his default setting. But seriously? They'd been there all of two seconds and the boys were already starting this shit? _Oh, hell no._ "What about in 1936 or 1982, same thing?"

Skye half-turned on a heel, giving the two towering young men behind her a long look that both of them studiously avoided. Alright, if that's how they wanted to play it… With a smile that didn't come anywhere near her eyes, Skye turned back to the old man and raised a hand, lifting a single finger in a 'hold on just a second' gesture that was unmistakable. "You know what? I am terribly sorry, Mr. Shaw, but I need just a minute to talk to my ...partners. If you'll excuse us."

Brushing past the boys, Skye yanked open the door and smiled pleasantly as she turned back toward them, her voice a low hiss that didn't carry more than a few feet. "You two. Out. _Now."_

* * *

The door had barely had time to latch behind them before Dean rounded on Skye and took a step toward her, looming over her with his voice raised just a notch or two above normal. Not that he really _meant_ to go for the whole 'intimidating' thing (not that it would have worked on the brat anyway), but old habits and all that. "What the hell are you _doing_?"

"What am _I_ doing?" Hands on her hips, Skyler didn't so much as twitch when Dean stepped up, instead doing him one better and getting in _his_ face. _Go figure, the girl flinches at a handshake but this, she's fine with._ "What the hell are _you_ doing?"

Before Dean could respond—not that he was quite sure what his response was going to be as he still hadn't quite figured out what he'd done wrong this time—Skye had turned her ire toward Sam and Dean wouldn't have been the least bit surprised if she'd stamped a foot. _And she wonders why I call her Tinkerbell._ "And _you_. You know, I expect this kinda high-handed, bullying bullshit from your brother, but I really expected better from you, Sam."

Oh. Also, ouch. She expected that from him, huh? But not Sam? Yeah, that didn't sting at all. If Dean hadn't been cranky before, he sure as hell was now. _Sam's the one popping off about her behind her back and_ _ **I'm**_ _the one that gets grief. Go fucking figure._ "The fuck are you even going on about? I knew I should have just left your ass in the car."

"You! That's what I'm 'goin' on about'. For fucks sake, Dean, do you even _hear_ how you talk to people?" She pressed her lips tightly together, nostrils flaring as she took a deep breath and Dean could practically see her counting to ten as she tried to keep her temper. It was kind of hot and kind of aggravating and Dean couldn't decide if he was a little turned on or a lot pissed off. Not that it mattered, as she wasn't about to let him get a word in either way. "You are asking this man to share somethin' that's probably real fuckin' traumatic for him and you, _both_ of you, just jumped down his throat because he was reluctant to talk about it thirty seconds after meetin' a couple of total fuckin' strangers? Are you fuckin' kiddin' me?"

"But-"

"We-"

"No. Just _no_." With a toss of her braids, she glared up at the both of them with her hands on her hips and refused to let them get a word in edgewise. It was only then that it occurred to Dean that even with all the fighting and bickering over the last week, _this_ was the first time he'd seen her truly pissed off. _Yeah, I'm leaning toward hot_. " _I_ am going to talk to him and you two are just gonna stand there and look pretty. Got it?"

"...I-"

"One word, just _one_ -" She took another step closer to Dean, close enough that he could smell the coffee on her breath as she lowered her voice, her tone taking on a sharp, stubborn edge he'd heard before. And not just because his own sounded weirdly similar at times. _Not that I'm stubborn or anything_. "-and I swear by all that is Holy, I will take every copy of Busty Asian Beauties you _think_ you have hidden in the trunk and donate them to the first teenage boy I find."

Without another word, she plastered a smile on her face and turned back to the door, disappearing into the apartment and leaving him and Sam to catch up, or not, as they pleased.

Glancing over at Dean, Sam's lips twitched as he smothered a laugh, his smile turning infuriatingly bright and cheerful considering they'd both just gotten a dressing down from Terminator Barbie. "For the record, I really _do_ like her."

"...shut up."

* * *

"I'm so sorry about that, sir. May I?" Skye approached the old man with an apologetic smile, no trace of anger in her voice or expression now. She nodded to the ottoman pulled up close to the chair the old man sat in, asking and getting permission before she sat facing him. "Thank you, Mr. Shaw."

The old man smiled, his homely face creasing with pleasure at such a simple show of politeness. _You catch more flies with honey and all that._ "Please, call me Stephen."

"Stephen, then." She felt her own smile widen in response and she leaned forward, dropping her voice a notch as she sat with her elbows on her knees. "Look, Stephen, I'm gonna be totally honest with you, okay? We _know_ it wasn't a grizzly that took your parents."

"How could you know that? Nobody-Nobody ever believed me when I said-" He fell quiet for a moment, wrinkled brow creasing as he turned that over in his brain a minute before he spoke again. "You're not really with the Parks Service, are you?"

"No, sir, we're not really with the Parks Service-"

"Dammit, Skyler, you can't-"

Without turning around to look at Dean, Skye held up one finger, her meaning quite clear. _If he thinks I'm kidding about donating his porn…_

"Whatever that thing is, Stephen, it's back and it's killing again and it's going to keep killing until those find, upstanding young men right there stop it." Fine, upstanding young men her lily-white butt. More like obnoxious, mouthy, angry assholes that could seriously use some therapy. Not that any of that showed on her face, she was way better than that. "Trust me, I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important, but I _need_ you to tell me what you saw that night."

It wasn't hard to see the old man was on the verge of cracking, hell, if anything, he was about to cry. Reaching out, Skye took Shaw's hand in both of her own, focusing on her own discomfort at the contact. It made it easier to ignore the guilt that was trying to stab at her brain.

... _manipulative little bitch…_

_Shut up, Mama._ "Please, Stephen. I promise, I'll believe you, whatever it is."

"I saw-I saw... _nothin'."_ He blinked down at his hand in hers, his fingers twitching before they curled around her own as he looked back up at her with watering eyes. For just a moment, it was as if she could see back through all the years to the terrified little boy he must have been. "I heard it, though, a roar like-like no man or animal I ever heard."

Sam's voice came from behind her, soft and low, as if not to break whatever spell she'd cast over the old man. _It's called being_ _ **nice**_ _, you emotionally-stunted freaks of nature._ "It came at night and got inside your tent?"

"It got inside our _cabin_. I was sleepin' in front of the fireplace when it came in..." Shaw didn't turn toward Sam when he spoke, keeping his eyes firmly glued to Skye's face like she was a lifeline to sanity amidst horrific memories. Poor old guy. She couldn't help wonder how many nights he'd woken up from nightmares about this, how many days he'd spent in fear that it would somehow come back to finish him off. "It didn't-it didn't smash a window or break the door, it _unlocked_ _it_."

Okay, yeah, that's pretty damn terrifying. What kind of monster could unlock a door? That spoke to a level of intelligence that Skye really didn't want to think about right then considering they were going to be heading right for it within the hour. "I didn't even wake till I heard Mama screamin'."

_Jesus_. Her anger at the boys temporarily forgotten, she tightened her grip on Shaw's hand, trying to impart whatever comfort she could. _So many years and he's still in so much pain…_ "It killed them?"

"It… it drug 'em off into the night. I don't know why it left me alive. I wish it hadn't. It left me this, though-" Forced to stop and clear his throat before he could continue, Shaw released her hand long enough to reach up and pull down the neck of his shirt, revealing four long, deep scars that crossed his chest. "There's somethin' evil in those woods. Some sorta-some sorta _demon_."

Before anyone could say anything, he'd grabbed her hand again, squeezing it hard enough to hurt. Even in his old age, the man had a decent grip on him, or maybe it was just earnest concern giving him strength as he looked deep into her eyes. "You don't-you don't wanna go out there. You're a nice girl, don't go out there."

* * *

"Thank you for your help, Mr. Shaw." Dean offered the old man a handshake with a smile. Maybe not a totally sincere smile, but it was a smile. He'd spent the entire time Skye had been interrogating Shaw thinking about what she'd said and much as he might hate to admit it, she hadn't been wrong. _Dammit._ "And uh-I'm sorry if we-I'm sorry if I came off a little-I'm just sorry, okay?"

"That young lady of yours, she's-" Accepting his apology and his handshake, Shaw smiled and glanced toward the end of the hall where Skyler had already disappeared, escaping just as soon as she'd been able. In fact, she'd vanished so quick, it might have seemed rude if Dean hadn't known that 'I'll meet you in the car' really meant 'I'm gonna go cry where nobody can see me'. _She's too soft-hearted for this shit._

"She reminds me of my wife, Evelyn, God rest her soul. Even smells like her." The faraway look in the old man's eyes receded as he focused on Dean, the fear and urgency there clear for anyone to see. "You keep an eye on her, you hear? She don't deserve to get-to get taken by that _thing_."

"I'll keep two eyes on her, just as often as I can spare 'em." _In fact, I already do_. It was kind of funny, really. Twenty minutes with the man and Skye had won him over. Old dude probably would have taken a bullet for her by then. In fact, thinking back on it, Dean realized it wasn't the first time. That girl back in Jericho, Alred at the hotel, and now this random old coot. _At least it's not just me._ "You have my word."

* * *

Running a hand through his hair, Dean watched the door to Shaw's apartment close as the old man went back inside. The day had barely started and yet, it somehow felt like it had already been about twelve hours long. _And it's not about to get any shorter._

"You know, for someone that claims to have never had any friends, she sure does know how to make them." Pushing away from the wall where he'd been waiting somewhat patiently, Sam joined Dean as he turned to head down the hall toward the exit. "Works fast, too."

"You heard him, she's a 'nice girl'. People like nice girls."

"Yeah… sure they do."

* * *

"So I've been thinkin' about what Shaw said." Thumb tapping on the steering wheel, Dean finally broke the silence that had filled the car since they'd left the old man's place, briefly glancing into the rearview to meet her eyes before looking away again and continuing with his thought. "Whatever this thing is, it's not a spirit or a demon, they don't need to unlock doors. Which means, whatever this thing is, we can kill it."

Drumming his knuckles repetitively against the window, Sam turned away from the trees and nothingness rushing by outside the window to look at his brother. "So what? You thinking a Skinwalker or a Black Dog, maybe?"

"With the claws and the speed it moves? Yeah, maybe." Dean cleared his throat and caught Skye's eyes in the mirror again. Not that she'd been refusing to look at him or anything up to that point. "A Skinwalker is someone that can turn into an animal, there's lore about 'em found in just about every culture-"

"I'm from _Oklahoma,_ Dean. The whole state is basically a giant Native American reservation. I know what a fuckin' Skinwalker is." Arms crossed, she leaned her head back against the seat and managed a tight smile. Not that she was still irritated or anything. Nope, not at all. "But if we could stop talkin' about 'em, that'd be great, 'cause they freak me right the fuck out."

_It's really not their fault they hit a nerve_. Rolling her eyes at the stupid little voice in her head, Skye relented the tiniest bit and admitted she didn't, in fact, know everything. No matter how much she might like to pretend she did. "No clue about a Black Dog, though."

"The lore on black dogs is a lot more vague." Sam covered a chuckle with a cough, though not very convincingly, and turned to look over his shoulder at her. "You ever read 'The Hound of the Baskervilles'? It's like that."

"Big and nasty, unsure of origin." Not a bad reference, really. It certainly conveyed the idea with very little effort on Sam's part. Wasn't at all comforting, though. The Hound of the Baskervilles had been the only Sherlock story that ever actually scared her. _Yay._ "Got it. Not sure I _want_ it, but I got it."

With a sniff, Dean rubbed the tip of his nose and glanced at her and Sam. A smile curving his stupidly pretty lips, he shook his head as he turned his attention back to the road. "Man, I have _got_ to learn to speak nerd."


	10. Into the Woods

The sun had fully risen above the horizon by the time they got to the trailhead at Lost Creek and it looked like it was going to be a clear, gorgeous day. Too bad they had to spend it hiking out into the middle of nowhere and not doing literally anything else. Not that Dean couldn't think of a few options, but if he let his thoughts wander down that path, he was going to end up needing a cold shower and that wasn't really an option at the moment.

Without a word, he climbed out of the car and circled around to where Hailey, Ben and some strange man with a very large gun—presumably Hailey's guide—stood by their own vehicle as they prepared to head off. _Oh goodie, we caught up to them._ Not that Dean had been hoping they'd be gone by now, or better yet, had decided not to come at all.

Hands in his pockets, he rocked back on his heels and stuck on his best 'I'm so goddamn charming' smile while he waited for Skye to join him and Sam to get the duffel out of the trunk. "You guys got room for three more?"

The man with the very large gun looked up and frowned, definitely not pleased to see them. Then again, that was nothing new. "Who the hell are you?"

A half-smile on her lips, Hailey answered the question before Dean had a chance to, shaking her head like she couldn't believe they'd actually come. "Apparently this is all the Parks Service could muster up for search and rescue."

Raising a brow, the man with the very large gun (that was obviously overcompensating for something) gave Dean, Skye, and Sam each a long, penetrating look that screamed 'bullshit'. Yeah, he wasn't buying it. Shocker. " _You're_ Rangers?"

Glancing over at Skye as she moved half a step closer to him, Dean flashed her a smile and a wink before he bothered to answer. "That's right."

The man shook his head, his gaze settling onto Skyler, who was admittedly the least convincing of the bunch. The pigtails, backpack, and discman probably weren't helping. _She looks like she should be on her way to Science class._

"She's a Ranger, my ass."

And just like that, Dean could see Skye shift the irritation that'd been apparent for the last hour from him and Sam straight onto this asshole. _Haha, serves you right. Dick_.

Smiling as sweet as anything, she wandered a little closer to The Dick, hands tucked into her pockets and ignoring absolutely everyone and everything else to give this guy her full attention. "I'm sorry, sir, what was your name?"

"...Roy."

"Hiya, Roy _._ I'm Skye. It's a pleasure to meet me, I'm sure." That smile of hers cranked up another notch as Roy opened his mouth to speak and if Dean hadn't been on the receiving end of her attitude for the last couple of weeks, he'd have thought she was genuinely being friendly. For about two seconds, until she ran right over the top of poor Roy without letting him get out so much as a syllable. "And I can't say as how I really want anything to do with your ass, but I really don't see how it's any of your business who or what I am. Last I checked, it's a free fuckin' country and I can go wherever the hell I want. And now that we've got that settled, let's get on with it, shall we?" Without waiting for any kind of response on Roy's part, Skye turned on a heel and headed toward the trail, where Ben and Hailey stood waiting. "Mornin'! Hey Ben, you look up that song I was tellin' you about last night…"

Hitching the straps of the duffle bag high on his shoulder, Sam stepped up next to Dean and tucked his hands into the pockets of his tan jacket as he watched Skye walk away with an amused—if a bit strained—smile. "So, you think she's still pissed?"

"Oh yeah, just now it's not at us." Cocking his head, Dean grinned and threw poor Roy a sarcastic salute. "Thanks for that, Roy."

"You think this is funny? Hailey's brother might be hurt and you're making quips and bringing more kids along." Roy hoisted his Very Large Gun up on a shoulder, eyes narrowed and lips pressed into a thin line. The man was obviously not happy and Dean could obviously not care less. "It is dangerous backcountry out there-"

"Believe me, we know how dangerous it can be." Understatement. On more than one occasion, as part of their training growing up, their Dad had taken him and Sam out to the middle of nowhere with nothing but a knife and a bottle of water and left them to their own devices for a few days. _At least it's not snowing_. "We just wanna help 'em find their brother, that's all."

Brushing past Roy to join back up with Skye and the others—Sam hot on his heels—Dean paused long enough to turn back with a smile and a word of warning. "And uh-I wouldn't let her hear you call her a kid."

"Why? What's she going to do? Shoot me?" Roy snorted derisively and rolled his eyes, clearly not taking Dean seriously. _Your funeral, dude._

"No, she'll just make you wish she had."

* * *

"Hey, hold up."

Hailey's voice caught Dean up short and he stopped, turning to wait for her as she caught up with him and Skye and Skye's new bestest friend, Ben. Those two had been chatting and giggling for the last twenty minutes straight about Dean didn't even know what. He'd heard 'Louden Swain' mentioned, whatever the fuck that was, and something about comic books and Deadpool and he was really starting to think maybe he was as old as Skyler kept saying. _Or she's just the single biggest nerd I've ever met in my life_.

"Hey, Hailey. What can I do for you?" Snaking out an arm, Dean caught Skye by the back of her bag and brought her up short, not about to let her get out of his sight when they were so close to Blackwater Ridge. "Nope, you stay with me or old man Shaw is gonna come after my ass." After what Dean was fairly sure was a token protest on her part, Skye settled and flashed Hailey a smile, only insulting his ancestry a tiny bit and mostly under her breath. _Hey, progress._ "Somethin' you needed, Hailey?"

"Yeah. I need to know who the hell you guys are. And I want the truth this time." Crossing her arms, Hailey pinned them both with an accusing glare. Much to Dean's surprise, he felt Skye shy back a step, flinching at the anger in Hailey's voice.

_She goes toe-to-toe with our boy Roy five seconds after meeting him but she's scared of_ _ **Hailey**_ _? The fuck kind of sense does that make?_ "I don't know what you mean-" And just like that, Skye was herself again, exchanging a look with Hailey that they then both turned on him. Very 'are you serious right now, asshat' and that was just rude. "Alright, fair enough." Just like the Devil when he'd gone down to Georgia, Dean knew when he'd been beat. _Hey, at least I'm not out a golden fiddle_. "Sam and I are brothers and Skye is our uh-she's-she's a friend of ours."

"Funny." Hands in the pockets of her jeans, Skyler smiled up at him with the kind of saccharine sweetness that let him know she was about to say something smartassed. Granted, that could also just be because she was opening her mouth to speak. "A week ago I was 'a temporary inconvenience'."

With a sigh that started somewhere several yards beneath his booted feet, Dean ran a hand through his hair and spared her a long-suffering glance. "You ever gonna let that go?"

"Do I look like Elsa to you?"

It must have been clear from the look on his face that he hadn't the faintest idea what she meant by that and she just shook her head, grinning smugly and marking a single tally in the air before she let him get back to the business of defending them to Hailey.

"Look, our Dad's missing and we think he may be out here somewhere." Okay, seriously, who the hell was Elsa and how was it relevant? _Focus, dumbass_. "I just figured, we're kinda in the same boat so we might as well all go together, right?"

Looking at Skye as if to see if Dean was lying again, Hailey sighed when Skye nodded and confirmed he was telling the truth this time. "Why didn't you just tell me the truth in the first place?"

"I'm not sure he knows how-"

"I'm tellin' you _now,_ okay?" One of these days he was going to just pop a hand over Skye's mouth so she couldn't interrupt him when he spoke. Granted, he'd probably get bit, but he reckoned it'd be worth it. _Worth it? Hell, you'd love it_. "So we good?"

"Yeah. We're good."

* * *

"So Roy, you said you do a little hunting?"

Dean's baritone rippled through the quiet, brushing past the birdsong in the trees and rustle of small creatures in the overgrowth just off the trail to snag Skye's attention. Not that her attention hadn't been glued firmly on his backside anyway. If she hadn't had years of dance practice behind her that made her pretty damn graceful, she'd have tripped and fallen on her face half a dozen times by now. And the worst part? Sam had caught her more than once and didn't even bother to pretend he wasn't laughing about it. _Sigh_.

"Yeah." Roy's much less pleasant voice answered, dripping with enough disdain to paint the Washington Monument with at least two coats. Maybe three. "More than a little."

"What kind of furry critters you hunt?" Stepping up onto a log that had fallen across the trail, Dean stopped and stood with his hands in his pockets, a dumbass little smirk on his lips as he looked at Roy like Roy was pond scum. Not that Skye really disagreed at this point. She'd heard the kid comment. _Dick_.

She had to give it to Roy, though. Aside from his obvious dislike of Dean, he was keeping it mostly professional, even answering Dean's question with a mostly neutral tone. _Nope, still a dick._ "Mostly buck, sometimes bear."

"Tell me, Bambi or Yogi ever hunt you back?" Because that didn't sound like a totally batshit question or anything. Cocky as ever, Dean went to step off the log without looking where he was going when he was brought up short by Roy aggressively grabbing his shoulder. "Whatcha doin', Roy?"

Instead of answering right away, Roy looked around for a second before grabbing a thick, dead branch that had broken off nearby and jammed it into the tall grass at the base of the fallen log. The unmistakable snap of metal on metal was jarring, wiping the smug smirk off Dean's face and pasting a smile on Roy's. "You should watch where you're stepping…' _Ranger'."_

Left blinking at the nasty piece of work that had snapped the branch in two, Dean managed a chuckle that Skye knew without a doubt was from nerves and not because he'd found it funny. _She'd_ found it a little funny, but that's because she was a bitch. Or so she'd been told. "It's a bear trap."

"I can see that." Fingers wrapped around one strap of her bag, Skye hitched it up a little higher on her shoulder and smiled pleasantly as she looked up to meet Dean's absurdly green eyes. "So, do you need a ruler or are you good?"

Careful to avoid the trap even if it was no longer a danger, Dean hopped off the log and turned back to offer her a hand. "Do I even wanna ask why I'd need a ruler?"

A brief look of pleased surprise flashed across his face when she took it, there and gone again so quick she couldn't be absolutely positive it'd been there. To be fair, it kind of surprised her, too. It hadn't even crossed her mind to turn down the offer. That shouldn't be that big a deal, right? So why did it feel like it was? _You know why._

"I just figure-" The snarky remark died in her throat as she looked up and realized exactly how close he was. And that he hadn't yet let go of her hand. And was it getting warm out there or was it just her? _Oh, it's definitely you._ What was she going to say? Oh. Yeah. Right. "I just figure if the dick measuring contest is so important that you almost step in a bear trap, you might at least wanna go for accuracy."

With a smile that was at odds with the snark she was absolutely sure was about to pop out of his mouth, Dean tightened the clasp on her hand and pulled her just the tiniest bit closer. "Did someone piss in your Post Toasties this mornin' or is it just that time of the month?"

Yup, there it was. And it was even intentionally sexist and irritating, almost like he practiced this shit in the mirror to be as infuriating as Heavenly possible. "You know what? Next time there's a bear trap, I'm just gonna shove your ass into it."

"That happens and you get to carry me back."

He was close enough now that she could hear the rumble of laughter Dean was holding back, smell the faint leather scent of his jacket… Yeah, it was definitely getting warmer out. It was still November, right? It hadn't just suddenly jumped to July when she wasn't looking? No? Okay then. "Fuck that, Winchester. I'm leavin' your ass for the wolves."

"You wouldn't do that." Dean smirked down at her and lifted a hand to tug gently on the end of a braid before he flipped it around to tickle the end of her nose, startling a giggle out of her as she swatted him away. Not that she ever giggled. "You _like_ my ass."

"You _wish_."

"And if I did?" And just like that, something shifted and he wasn't teasing anymore and did something just come along and suck all the oxygen out of an entire forest and what the _hell_ was that sound?

_Yeah, that'd be your pulse, genius._

...oh.

"I-" She could feel the heat rise on her skin and knew she was likely turning several different and unflattering shades of red. And what was she even going to say to that? _Well, yeah, of course I like your ass. I mean, have you_ _ **seen**_ _your ass? Not to mention everything else it's attached to…_

Luckily for her—or maybe unluckily, she really wasn't sure—Sam chose that exact moment to butt in and from the grin on his face, Skye didn't doubt for a second that the timing was intentional. _I don't know if I want to hit him or hug him._

"Hey guys, how you doing? Everything good?" Sam slung an arm around Dean's shoulder, his grin widening as Dean uttered a few choice words that would have been wildly inappropriate in pretty much any other situation. "You know, you might want to get moving before you get left behind." His hazel eyes dropped down to rest on Dean's hand, which just so happened to still have Skye's in it. _Whoops_. "Oh, I'm _so_ sorry. Did I-did I interrupt something?"

"Nope. Not a thing." Biting back a laugh as Sam smiled at her, more cheerful than she'd seen him since Jericho. To be fair, if she'd had a sibling, she probably would have gotten immense enjoyment out of cock-blocking them too. _Dick move, but funny._

She slid her hand out of Dean's and took a step back, leaves and sticks crunching underfoot and reminding her of where they were and why they were there. Probably not the best spot ever to have a 'Moment'. "I think I'm gonna go catch up to Ben. You two have fun."

Turning away, she reached up to put a single earbud back in her ear and paused before she hit play on the discman hooked to the waistband of her jeans, a broad smile creeping across her lips as Dean's response to Sam's assholery followed her down the trail. "You know you were adopted, right?"


	11. Blackwater Ridge

The sun was shining brightly overhead, already starting it's slow descent to the west when they broke through into a clearing and Roy finally called a halt. "This is it. Blackwater Ridge."

How he could tell, Sam didn't know, as it looked just like every other bit of nothing they'd walked through in the last hour. Sliding the duffle bag off his shoulder and letting it drop at his feet, Sam tried not to let a wave of disappointment swamp him. There was no sign of John anywhere. _Maybe we're just in the wrong spot._ "Hey Roy, what coordinates are we at?"

Roy rolled his eyes at the perfectly reasonable question, dropping his bag and shifting his gun to his other arm so he could dig his fancy satellite-connected GPS out of a pocket. "We're at thirty-five and minus one-eleven." Apparently annoyed that Sam had even had the audacity to ask when he'd so clearly stated that they were exactly where they were supposed to be, Roy turned the GPS so Sam could see for himself with an insufferable smirk on his face. Sam had been willing to give the man half a chance, but with that attitude, he was beginning to see why Skye and Dean had been snarking at Roy all damn day. _Guy really is kind of an asshole_. "See?"

"Thanks." The small flicker of hope that had been keeping Sam going faded abruptly, leaving him hollow and tired.

_We're definitely in the right place, so where the hell is Dad?_

* * *

His attention on the treeline surrounding them, Dean ignored the pervasive thread of fear that tickled at the back of his mind, making the hair on the back of his neck stand up and wave hello. Not the first time he'd felt something like that, not by a long shot, and with a little skill and a lot of luck, it wouldn't be the last. "You hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"Exactly." Letting his gaze drop to the petite brunette that stood not six inches away, Dean managed a smile. She sounded spooked enough—though she didn't look it, not that that was terribly surprising—he didn't need to make it any worse by letting on that he was, too. "Not even crickets."

Raising a brow, she gave him the kind of slow, smartassed smile that eroded the edges of his brain like water washing away a badly built sandcastle. "And where have you been that there are crickets in November?"

"Texas."

"Touche." Easing her bag off her shoulder and setting it at her feet, Skye's smile turned strained and it wasn't hard to see the spark of fear she'd been holding back get just a bit brighter. Or maybe he was just getting better at reading the little details that gave her away. "It is really damn quiet, though, huh? You know, I'd kinda been hopin' I was just bein' all paranoid or maybe goin' a little crazy."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure you've been more than a little crazy for quite some time now."

"Definitely crazy." Poking his nose where it wasn't wanted, Sam chose that moment to walk up and put his two cents in. With a smirk and a theatrical flourish, he gestured to Dean as if presenting a prize to a lucky lottery winner. "I give you exhibit A."

"Bite me, Beanpole."

If she hadn't turned bright red for at least the second time that day, Skye probably could have played it off like she didn't know what the hell Sam was talking about, but too late now. _You know, I'm starting to think she might like me just a little bit._ Weird how a single thought could be both absolutely terrifying and utterly fantastic, all at the same time.

"You guys are so reassuring, you know that?" Retrieving her bag from the ground by her feet, she slung the straps back over her shoulders and just shook her head, as if she couldn't believe she'd managed to get stuck out here in the middle of nowhere with him and his dumbass brother. _Lucky me._ "You'd be great therapists and anyone you couldn't help, you could just shoot."

* * *

"Hey! Over here!"

Roy's obnoxious voice pierced the hush that blanketed everything around them. Piercing and urgent, it drew everyone's attention to an area a few hundred yards from the clearing that was obstructed from view by a thick copse of pine trees. Granted, everything everywhere was obstructed by a thick copse of pine trees so that wasn't exactly surprising. Skye couldn't say she was a fan. _I'd like to be able to see more than thirty feet in front of me, thanks so much._

It wasn't like she'd never been in the woods before, either. Hell, her grandmother's house in Oklahoma had a good hundred and fifty acres attached to it and most of that was trees and Skyler had spent the last couple of years wandering all over it without a care in the world… So what was it about _these_ trees that scared the crap out of her?

_There aren't monsters looking to eviscerate you and eat your insides in your Grandma's woods, Mouse. You can feel it, can't you? It's out there right now. Watching you. Waiting. You're never going to make it out of here in one piece._

_...and it serves you right, too…_

Stepping through the trees into what remained of Tommy's camp—or at least she was assuming it was Tommy's because who else's would it have been—Skyler shoved her mother's voice back down into the dark corners of her subconscious where it belonged with a firm mental 'Fuck You' as she surveyed the damage in front of her.

The tents were destroyed, slashed to ribbons and left to rot beside bits of plastic she could only guess used to be an ice chest. It didn't look like anything had been left in one piece, at least not anything she could see. And was that blood? _Okay, great._

"I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration..." She trailed off as Dean stopped beside her, not realizing she'd been speaking aloud until he looked down at her. She knew that look. That was his "trying not to laugh'' look. What the hell had she been saying?

"Are you quoting Dune?"

_Oh._ "Maybe." Great, because he needed to think she was any more of a weird little nerd than he already did. Granted, he didn't seem to mind terribly much. In fact, he kind of seemed to like it. _That's because he's a nerd, too, he just doesn't want to admit it._ "Okay, yes, that was Dune. Now, do you know that because you read the book or because you watched that abomination of a movie?"

"Both." Dean flashed her one of those grins of his that tended to make her pulse flutter as he closed the small amount of space between them to hover just a few inches away with his gaze flickering back and forth between her and the trees around them. "And I _liked_ the movie."

"You would." Wrapping a hand around the leather strap slung over her shoulder, she tried to ease the tension in her shoulders that was trying to creep up and settle into a headache at her temples. "How about 'Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the assessment that-"

"But rather the assessment that something else is more important than fear." And there was that smile again. "Though personally I prefer 'Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgment that something is more important than fear-"

"Because the brave may not live forever, but the cautious do not live at all." In spite of the current situation, she found herself grinning back as her fear receded to manageable levels due in no small part to the tall, dark, and incredibly handsome man standing there quoting things at her. Not that she was about to tell _him_ that. _Dammit, why the hell does he have to be so damn cute. And funny. And sweet. And-_ "And that's from the Princess Diaries, Dean."

"Yeah, well, you weren't supposed to know that."

* * *

Dropping her bag in the middle of camp next to everyone else's gear, Skyler took a second to close her eyes and just breathe. The absolute last thing she needed right now—that any of them needed—was for her to have a full blown panic attack. Not that one wasn't warranted, but it'd be some seriously bad timing. And it's not like she was the only one having a rough time of it.

She opened her eyes at the scuff of a footstep and smiled at the dark-haired young man hovering awkwardly a few feet away, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets and his shoulders hunched around his ears. "How you holdin' up?"

"I'm okay, I guess." Ben shrugged and tried to smile back. He failed miserably, but A for effort. Poor kid seemed so lost and scared, like a toddler in the middle of Wal-Mart that just looked up and realized his parents weren't there. _I can't even begin to imagine what he's going through right now. "_ Roy says it looks like a grizzly."

"Does he?" No big surprise there. There wasn't a doubt in her mind that Roy was very, very wrong but she couldn't fault the man. A grizzly would make sense. A huge, super-fast, furry, man-eating monster considerably less so. "And no sign of Tommy, huh?"

"...no."

"I'm sorry, Ben." Hands in her back pockets, Skye tried to think of something she could do to help but came up blank. What the hell does someone say in this situation? 'Hey, sorry your brother's probably been eaten by a monster straight out of a B-horror flick, but on the bright side I brought a couple guys with guns to help out'. _Not bloody likely._ "We'll find him, Ben. It'll be okay."

_Yeah. Right._

"Hey Tinkerbell, come take a look at this." Much to Skye's relief, Dean's voice drifted over from where he stood a few yards away and broke into the conversation before she had to come up with something else to say. It wasn't the easiest thing ever to try and comfort a near-stranger when she herself was having such a hard time holding it together.

"Sorry. I'll be back in a minute." She turned away from Ben, only to reconsider and turn right back around, ignoring Dean's obvious impatience. _He's going to start tapping his foot any second now, the big baby._ "And hey, do me a favor and stay near Sam, okay?"

"What?" Confusion on his face, Ben glanced at the tall, lanky man standing with Hailey and Roy halfway across the camp before turning back to Skye with a questioning look. "Why?"

"Because I'm paranoid and it'd make me feel better." _Because he has half a clue what's going on and that duffle bag he's got is filled with enough weaponry to take down a small army._ "Just humor me, alright?"

" _Skyler_."

"Hold your damn horses, Winchester! I'm _comin'_."


	12. Turning Point

Standing in the shade beneath the tall pines, Dean crossed his arms and leaned back against a tree trunk as he watched Skyler make her way across the campsite and tried to tell himself that it wasn't jealousy curling up in the pit of his stomach and sinking its fangs in. Unfortunately for him, he was pretty well past the whole denial thing and it wasn't working too well.

He straightened up as she got within easy speaking distance and stuck a tight smile on his lips that he hoped she couldn't see through. It wasn't a huge hope as she was way too damn good at reading him, but any hope is better than none. "Took you long enough."

And there was that smile of hers again, the one that made his stomach drop and his heart beat faster. The one she seemed to reserve just for him. Or maybe that was wishful thinking on his part, though somehow he didn't think so. "Have you ever considered workin' on the whole patience thing?"

Her tone was light, cheerful even, but Dean wasn't fooled for a second. He'd seen her when she was relaxed and comfortable and this wasn't it, but he had to admit it was pretty damn convincing. _At least she's good under pressure._ "You know, I heard somewhere that's a virtue and I try to stay away from those."

"Of course you do." Hands tucked into the pockets of her jacket, she raised a brow, her dark eyes laughing up at him as she drifted a step closer. "Now, is there somethin' you wanted or did you just miss me?"

Good questions, and not exactly ones he could actually answer because ' _I want_ _ **you**_ _every which way possible and I always miss you when you're more than a foot away'_ just really wasn't the kind of thing he could actually say to her. Creepy and obsessive just isn't a good look for anyone. "Just thought maybe you'd like a quick lesson in woodcraft but if you'd rather not…"

"I'm gettin' lessons now?" Her smile widened as she followed him into the trees, sticking close enough to his side to brush against him. It took every but of self-restraint he possessed—which honestly wasn't his strong suit—not to reach out and take her hand. She wouldn't appreciate it but it just felt like the most natural thing in the world to want to. "Does that mean I get to be a really real Ghostbuster, just like you?"

"Do you wanna be?" Not the first time he'd entertained the thought, but it was the first time he'd voiced it aloud. There wasn't a doubt in his mind that she'd be good at it—she had the temperament for it and she was so damn smart—but the thought of her getting hurt was less than pleasant. _That's an understatement._ "Here, take a look at this." He cut her off before she could answer—because honestly he wasn't sure he wanted to know what she'd have to say to that—instead drawing her attention to the pair of furrows plowed several inches deep into the loose topsoil. "They're heel marks."

"So...whatever it is dragged Tommy and his buddies away from camp?"

_Jesus, she's quick._ "Yeah, exactly."

Brow furrowed in thought, she dropped down to sit on her heels, studying the marks more closely. He could see the gears clicking away in her mind as her gaze followed the tracks until they vanished a few feet from where she knelt before she turned that same gaze toward him. "But they don't go anywhere."

"Yeah, and that's weird." And if she didn't quit looking up at him like that while on her knees, he was going to end up with a problem he couldn't solve right now. There wasn't a cold shower within a good ten miles and it wasn't like he could take matters into his own hands, so to speak. _Fucks sake, get your mind out of the gutter_. Easier thought than done considering he was there so often he should probably be paying rent to Pennywise. "They just disappear and I can't find any other sign of 'em anywhere."

"So how good are you at this kinda thing?" Getting slowly back to her feet, she dusted her hands off on her jeans and gave him the kind of look that sternly warned him against trying to exaggerate his prowess. "And no 'I bullseyed every one of 'em' bullshit either, I mean _really_."

"Bullshit? _Me_? I'm hurt you'd think such a thing." Someone telling him he was full of shit on a regular basis really shouldn't be that appealing, but it was, and he was seriously starting to think maybe he needed some kind of professional help. "I am very good at my job, Skyler. No bullshit." Smiling down at her, he tried not to notice how close she was. How cute she was. How good she smelled. _Because that's working so well_. "And I can tell you right now this is no Skinwalker or Black Dog."

"Alright, good to know. And I think I prefer Tinkerbell to Skyler, just as a for the record." Drifting a little closer, she took him by surprise when she reached out and straightened his jacket, her hands wrapped around the thick leather as she tilted her head back to look up at him in a way that dispelled the last lingering doubts in his mind that she was more than a little interested, and not in the job. And suddenly he had to struggle to remember how to breathe. "You know, you might just end up bein' kinda handy to have around."

He could feel the warmth of her hands through the three layers of clothing he wore, the sweet scent of her drifting up to swirl around, making his brain dissolve around the edges like cotton-candy. _God, she's gorgeous._

Hesitantly—more so than he'd been with a woman in a long time. Maybe ever—Dean lifted a hand to brush a few stray hairs out of her eyes. He felt her tense at his touch and fully expected her to say something or take a step back but she surprised him again when she did nothing of the kind.

"You know, you don't stop complimentin' me and I might start to think you don't loathe my existence."

"How about that." Her grip tightened on his jacket and he'd have sworn he could hear her pulse pick up a notch. Or maybe that was his? Either way… "I guess maybe you've been upgraded from pure loathing to moderate antipathy."

"Have I?" It would have been so easy to reach out and pull her closer, to wrap his arms around her and find out if she tasted as good as she looked, like he'd been aching to do since the minute he'd first laid eyes on her. Too bad he knew she wasn't nearly ready for that, though that didn't shut up the little voice in his head screaming at him to do it anyway. _Not patient, my ass._ "Good to know."

"Dean, I-"

"Dean. Skye. You two still alive-" And of course his dumbass brother would choose just that moment to come lumbering out of camp and interrupt what was looking to be a pivotal moment in their whole...whatever in the hell this even was. To his credit, Sam at least seemed to realize that fact after seeing what he'd stumbled upon. "...oh. Whoops, my bad."

Really, maybe it was better that they had been interrupted because another few seconds of that and Dean very well might have said 'fuck it' and went for it anyway and that probably would have been a bad idea. Also probably the only reason Dean didn't just shoot Sam right then and there. Well, that and it would have been real messy and hard to explain to the rest of the group. "Hold on a second, Sammy."

Ignoring Sam as he stood there, gaping at the two of them like he'd never seen a couple of people looking at each other like they were the only two things in existence, Dean smiled down at Skye and urged her to finish her thought. "What were you gonna say?"

"Nothin'. It's not important, I just… Can we talk later?" Glancing back at Sam over her shoulder , she shook her head before looking back up at him, a wry smile twitching on her lips as she released her hold on his jacket and took a step back. "I uh-I kind of have a favor to ask you. Well, assuming we don't die before then."

"I think I can manage that." Hell, he was downright looking forward to it. He always did, even when they talked about the stupidest shit. Or maybe _especially_ when they just talked about the stupidest shit. _But what favor could she possibly want?_ "Why don't you go check on Ben and Hailey?"

"I think I can manage that." She tossed his own words back at him before she turned away, brushing past Sam on her way back to camp and Dean could swear he heard her mutter something to the effect of 'Great timing, Sasquatch' before she disappeared past the trees and he was left wondering if she were being sarcastic or serious.

"You know earlier when I said you were adopted?" Hands in his pockets, Dean turned a pleasant smile on his brother, though his tone was decidedly less so. "I lied. We actually found you under a fuckin' rock at the edge of a swamp and Dad said I could keep you as a pet." With one last look at the furrows at his feet, Dean sighed and threw Sam an 'if looks could kill, you'd be so dead right now' kind of look before he turned to walk back toward camp. "I thought you were a weird kind of frog."

"Hey, man. It was an accident this time, I swear."

"Then maybe you'd better stop laughin' before I shoot you."


	13. Wicked Smart

"Hey." A steady and reassuring smile on her lips—the same smile she'd used countless times on countless scared children—Skye crouched down next to where Hailey knelt beside the ruins of Tommy's tent. The poor woman was obviously distraught—and who could blame her—and there wasn't a goddamn thing Skye could say or do to help. If there was one thing Skye _hated,_ it was feeling completely helpless. _Why do I have the feeling I'm going to have to get used to that_ "What'd you find?"

Without a word, Hailey held up the small object in her hand, a silver flip phone that had definitely seen better days. It looked like it had been crushed with a single massive hand and the blood streaked across it didn't help any. _Shit_.

"That doesn't prove anything?" Rocking back on her heels, Skye laid a hand on Hailey's arm and tried her damndest to pump as much reassurance and comfort into her voice as she possibly could. "If he's still…" _Alive._ "...Sam and Dean, they'll find him, okay? I know they will."

_...you got an awful lot of faith in a couple of Kansas boys that you only just met. That's smart. I'm sure that won't come back to bite you in the ass…_

"Thank you, Skye." A tired smile stretching across lips pressed thin with worry, Hailey reached up and laid her hand on Skye's, apparently more than willing to take the little bit of reassurance the younger woman could conjure up. "I-"

" _Help! Please, somebody! Help me_!"

The cry for help shattered the quiet that had surrounded the camp since they'd arrived, splitting the air around them and jerking Skye to her feet so fast her head spun and her vision greyed out for a second. Heartbeat thundering in her ears, she instinctively turned toward where Sam and Dean stood halfway across the clearing. _It wasn't them. It wasn't_ _ **him**_ _. They're both_ _ **fine**_ _._ Now if only she could tell that to her blood pressure. "Who-" _or what "-_ the hell was that?"

"I have no idea." The question hadn't been aimed at anyone in particular—just a general 'holy hell, y'all heard that too, right' kind of question—but Sam chose to answer anyway after exchanging a disconcerting glance with his brother. "But I say we go find out."

* * *

Turning in a slow circle, Sam examined the small clearing beneath the towering pines several hundred yards from the campsite and saw...nothing. Not a mark, not a footprint, not a bent limb or a snagged thread. _This cannot possibly be a good thing._ "It seemed like it was coming from around here, didn't it?"

The silent chorus of nods he got in reply from all five of his reluctant companions wasn't reassuring in the least. Eyes closed, Sam tried to ignore the faint sounds of the others moving around as something tickled at the back of his mind—a thought too faint to even be considered an idea—a vague glimmer that danced just around the edges of his brain and refused to come close enough for him to grab. What _was_ it?

_Maybe…_ But it couldn't be. But if it _was? Shit._ "Everyone, back to camp." It wasn't often Sam used his size to his advantage—preferring to slouch around and give off the 'puppy-dog' vibe, as Skyler called it—but when he did, people tended to sit up and take notice. Now was no different. " _Now._ _Go."_

Five heads swiveled around at the sound of his voice. Five pairs of eyebrows raised in surprise. But not one word of argument.

* * *

"So much for my GPS and the satellite phone."

A disgusted look on his stupid face, Roy examined the empty ring of flattened dirt and dead grass that, up until just a few minutes ago, had been piled high with all of the bags filled with all the weapons and supplies they'd brought with them. Well, save for the gun Roy had refused to relinquish and whatever weapons and supplies were stuffed in the various pockets of the various people milling around the camp.

_At least me and Sam are armed. Maybe I should have given Tink a gun..._ On second thought, that might be a scarier proposition than facing whatever the hell it was watching them. And it _was_ watching them, of that Dean had no doubt.

The nothing around them grew louder until the only sound was that of Dean's own heartbeat and a single thought echoing back at him from the pessimistic part of his brain that insisted this was all going to end very badly: _I shouldn't have let them come._ _I shouldn't have let_ _ **her**_ _come._

To Dean's surprise, it was Hailey that finally broke the thick silence and snapped the entire group out of whatever spell dread was trying to weave around them. "What the _hell_ is going on?"

Turning slowly from where he stood with his eyes on the trees, Sam chewed the inside of his cheek before answering. The thin press of his lips yelled louder than words that he was worried. _Real_ worried. "It's smart. It wants us cut off so we can't call for help."

"He figured it out, didn't he?"

Barely audible, Skye's hushed voice drifted over from where she stood just just a few inches away. _Close enough to touch._ In fact, that seemed to be turning into the default, her preference to be near him overriding her knee-jerk reaction toward being that close to anyone. And Dean was even like ninety percent sure it wasn't _just_ because she was absolutely terrified. Okay, maybe eighty-five. _We'll go a solid seventy._ "Seems like. I sure wish he'd share with the class."

"What the hell are you so afraid of?" Roy's irritating voice slid in, rudely interrupting their little side conversation, rolling his eyes and sneering at Sam like Sam was just about the stupidest person he'd ever had the displeasure to meet. "It's just some nutjob out there with our gear."

_Oh, that dude needs to be punched in the face_ _ **so**_ _damn bad._ At this rate, it was a toss-up between whether it'd be Sam or Dean that did it. Dean was kind of hoping for the privilege, but just so long as he at least got to see it, he'd be happy.

"I need to talk to you two." With a roll of his own eyes, Sam walked right by Roy—who did not at all seem to appreciate being blown off like that—and headed straight over to where Skye and Dean hovered on the far side of camp. "Privately."

* * *

The silence around them pressed in unnervingly as Sam led his brother and Skyler away from the others and into the trees. What he had to say wasn't for prying ears, and it was so quiet around them you could hear the proverbial pin drop. Even the rustle of small, furry creatures in the underbrush was noticeably absent and the feeling of being watched intensified with every step.

After he was satisfied they'd gone as far as he dared take them, Sam turned to face the others and held out his hand toward Dean, gesturing impatiently as they took their sweet ass time catching up. "Let me see Dad's journal."

Without a word, Dean reached into the inner breast pocket of his leather jacket, producing the thick leather-bound volume and handing it over without protest. Rocking forward onto the toes of her boots, Skye made a show of peering into Dean's jacket before tilting her head back to look up at him. "You know, you could hide a small person in there."

The corner of Dean's lips twitched up into a cheerful smile that was at direct odds with their current situation before he held his jacket open wider in clear invitation. "Hop on in, Tinkerbell."

"I am not _small_ -" Yeah, sure she wasn't. Any smaller and she'd vanish like Alice after nibbling a cake or two. "-I'm Fun-Size."

"Oh, I bet you are." Not exactly a shocker that Dean agreed with the sentiment, the affectionate smile dancing on Dean's lips putting any doubt Sam might have had about Dean's feelings toward Skyler to rest. Not that Sam had really had any, but he was still having a little trouble wrapping his head around the fact that Dean was capable of anything beyond lust. Still, even Sam had to admit they were disgustingly cute. _With an emphasis on disgusting._

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were comin' onto me." Hands tucked into the pockets of her denim jacket, Skyler caught the lascivious look that flashed across Dean's dumbass face and wrinkled her nose at him. Sam had said it before and he'd say it again, the girl had Dean pegged. "...that might have been a poor choice of words."

Before Dean could open his mouth to reply—undoubtedly with something nauseating—Sam cleared his throat and brought their attention back to the task at hand. "So you two have moved on to being openly revolting now. Good, took you long enough." Ignoring the dirty looks and the simultaneous 'fuck you's' that popped out of their mouths, Sam rifled through John's journal until he found the page he was looking for and skimmed it briefly before handing it back to Dean. "Here."

"Man, come on? A Wendigo?" Dean barely glanced at the page Sam had flipped to before he closed the journal and tucked it back into the jacket pocket he'd plucked it from without bothering to read it. He didn't have to; no doubt he had the whole damn thing memorized. "They're in Minnesota woods, maybe northern Michigan. I've never even heard of one this far west."

"Think about it, Dean. It makes sense." Running a hand through his hair, Sam leaned back against a fallen tree trunk and gave Dean a long look. His brother might be stupid, but he wasn't _stupid_. He wouldn't ignore the evidence shoved in his face no matter how much he might want to. "It's smart, it's fast, and the way it can mimic a human voice…"

"...fuck me." Closing his eyes for a second, Dean scrubbed a hand over his face before he sighed and blinked wearily down at Skye, his formerly cheerful smile showing considerable strain. "A Wendigo is a-"

"I know what a Wendigo is. You got to set it on fire, right? Melt its heart?" Skyler interrupted before Dean could really get going, smirking at the surprised look on Dean's face that Sam was sure mirrored on his own. It's not like that kind of thing was common knowledge. Shrugging a slim shoulder, Skye laughed and temporized. "Okay, I _kinda_ know what a Wendigo is. Possibly. _Maybe_."

Raising a brow in two damn near identical expressions of 'how the fuck', Sam and Dean both looked at her and waited silently for her to explain herself. _This should be interesting._

It took less than a minute for her to cave under the weight of their combined stares and Sam could see the color start to creep up her neck, bringing a flush to her cheeks as she explained the source of her unexpected understanding. "There's an episode of Charmed where Piper gets turned into one, okay?" Shifting her weight in a too-obvious show of discomfort at the intense scrutiny she got for that one, Skye sighed and shook her head. "...not that Charmed lore is probably accurate but-"

"You are a serious pain in my ass, you know that?" The strain in Dean's smile eased and Sam quickly suppressed a chuckle at the way Dean's hand twitched, like he wanted to reach for her and didn't dare. _Aww, so cute._ "You're also not wrong, which is becoming a really annoying habit." With a wry twist of his lips, Dean sighed and vaguely gestured toward the small of his back, where Sam knew he was packing his .45. "Guess my gun is useless."

Looking a little taken aback, Skye took half a step back and tilted her head to look up at Dean. Cocking her head to the side, she arched a brow in his direction. "Wait, you're armed?"

Chuckling at the leery expression on Skye's face, Dean turned and lifted the back of his jacket and the two layers beneath it to show the gun tucked into the waist of his jeans. If Sam knew Dean, and he definitely did, it wasn't the only weapon on his person. Not by a long shot. "Honey, I'm always armed."

The slow smile that spread across Skyler's lips at the off-hand term of endearment promised grievous bodily injury in spite of its apparent sweetness. "Don't call me honey or we'll see exactly how much good that does you."

Choking back a laugh, Dean snapped to attention like a good little soldier and threw a crisp and painfully smartassed salute. "Yes, _ma'am_."

"Come on, guys." With a shake of his head, Sam entertained the briefest thought of just leaving them out here to get eaten. Not _seriously_ , of course, but it made him feel a little better for a second. With a purely internal sigh, he straightened and dusted himself off, nodding toward the camp just out of sight beyond the treeline. "We've got to get these people to safety."

* * *

Clearing his throat, Dean caught Skye's attention as he reached out to snag the collar of her denim jacket, bringing her to an abrupt halt and forcing her to look at him and actually pay attention as he spoke. "You stay right next to me, you hear?"

"Why? Isn't starin' at my ass a little easier from a distance?"

"I do not-" Yeah, no way he could really deny that one. But to be fair, she stared at his too and he damn well knew it. Still, not the point. "I mean it, Skyler. If you wander off and die I'll-" Struggling to find an appropriate threat, Dean gave up pretty quickly and just went for the usual. "I'll kill you myself."

"Uh-huh. And what are you gonna do if this thing decides I look tasty, Dean?" Arms crossed, she rocked back on her heels, those dark brown eyes of hers sparkling with stifled laughter at the look of consternation on his face. "Melt it's heart with the sheer power of your charming smile?"

"...you think I'm charming?"

"That's not-I didn't-" Nostrils flaring as she took a deep breath, Skye raised a hand to rub a temple as she contemplated strangling him for the tenth time that day. Or at least that's what Dean assumed, though here's to hoping maybe it wasn't _strangling_ she was contemplating. "...shut up, Winchester. You know you're fuckin' adorable. Don't make me actually say it."

"I would _never_."


	14. Circling the Wagons

The chilly evening breeze stirred the tattered remains of the shredded tents and snuck a finger up under the collar of Skye's jacket, causing shivers that broke out in goosebumps. Why couldn't they have wound up out here in July or August? No, it had to be _November_. Nothing she could do about it now, though, but try and warm herself with thoughts of tropical sun and roaring fires. The view of Dean's backside as she trailed after him didn't hurt, either.

"Alright, listen up." Clapping his hands sharply, Sam wasted no time getting everyone's attention as he stalked back into camp. Not that it would have been easy to ignore the man, dude was just about as tall as the trees around them. _I don't think I wanna see him pissed off._ "It's time to go. Things have gotten more complicated."

A puzzled expression on her pretty features, Hailey stepped away from where she'd been hovering protectively over Ben. Like any good big sister, she hadn't let the kid out arm's reach since they'd found the blood-stained ruins of what had once been Tommy's supplies. "What's going on?"

"Don't worry, kid-" With a roll of his eyes, Roy straightened from where he'd been rummaging around in the bits and pieces left behind when their furry friend decided Tommy and his buddies looked like a tasty midnight snack. Turning to give Sam a derisive snort, Roy smiled and lifted the gun in his hand. And it wasn't a pleasant smile, either, not by any stretch of the imagination. "-I think whatever's out there, I can handle it."

Hands tucked deep in her jacket pockets, Skye watched the show with avid interest, honestly hoping to see Sam just give in and deck that asshole. _If Roy only knew, he'd be groveling at Sam's feet to save his dumb ass._ Shifting, she glanced briefly up as Dean stepped up next to her. True to what he'd said just a few minutes before, he was on her like white on rice. With a smile, she lowered her voice so as not to interrupt the potential fistfight, not looking up at Dean as she spoke so as not to miss anything, "Is it really _more_ complicated instead of just differently complicated?"

"Shh, Sammy's bein' all bossy." Raising a finger to his lips, Dean's amused smile in no way detracted from the worry that was stamped in every limb and muscle twitch. _Not worry. Fear. He's afraid, and not for himself.._ Not that a guy like Dean would _ever_ admit such a thing. God forbid he allow himself to _feel_ things without trying to hide it behind a smartass grin. _You're one to talk._ "Doesn't it just give you tingles?"

"Sam bein' bossy? ...no. No it does not." Dean being bossy on the other hand...Now there's a thought she didn't dare delve too deeply into. Talk about tingles.

"It's not me I'm worried about." Sam's voice rose to keep pace with his growing irritation at the stupid, stubborn, sorry excuse for a 'guide'. Not that Skye could blame him. She'd been so done with Roy from minute one. _Kid my ass._ "If you shoot this thing, you're just going to piss it off. We have to leave. _Now._ "

"You're talkin' nonsense." Lips pressed into a thin line and a vein starting to throb on his forehead, Roy looked like he might actually be stupid enough—or maybe just angry enough—to get in Sam's face. _Please please please. "_ And you're in no position to be giving anybody orders."

"We never should have let you come out here in the first place." Taking a single step forward, Sam towered over Roy, the first time Skye had seen him really try to use his size to intimidate. And from the flash of fear in Roy's eyes, it was working. "I'm trying to protect you!"

" _You_ protect _me?_ That's a laugh." And Roy, instead of backing down—which obviously would have been the smart option—dug himself in deeper and stepped up to get in Sam's face. Because _men_. Can't admit when they're on the losing side even when it's about to get them knocked the fuck out. _Idiots, the lot of them_. Not the most charitable thought ever, but one that certainly seemed to be accurate, at least at the moment. "I was huntin' these woods when your Mommy was still changing your diapers and kissin' you goodnight."

_Ooph, wrong move, my man._ While Sam was undoubtedly the more level-headed brother, even Skye could see that his grasp on his temper was slipping. Granted, it wasn't exactly hard, not with his fists clenching and that muscle twitching in his jaw—apparently a family trait—and him stepping up close enough to Roy that there wasn't enough space left between the two to slip a piece of paper through. And _damn_ could Sam get loud. "It's a damn near perfect hunter and it's smarter than you-"

"So are toadstools." With a muffled laugh, Skye didn't even realize she'd said the thought aloud until Dean snorted. She'd momentarily forgotten that he was standing so close beside her. Okay, maybe not _forgotten,_ because _that_ was possible… _Wait, did he just snort? That's fucking adorable._

"-and it's going to hunt you down and eat you alive unless we get your stupid, sorry ass out of here."

"Oh, now Roy's gone and done it. If Sammy's cursin', you know shit's about to get serious." It wasn't until Dean said as much that Skye realized she'd never heard Sam curse. At least, not enough to stick out in her mind. Unlike Dean. _Dude curses almost as much as I do._

Holding up a hand, Dean held up a single finger, cutting her off before she could say anything. "Wait here, I better go stop this before somebody-" _Roy._ "-gets hurt." He hadn't even taken half a step before he turned back, giving her a _**Look**_ and jabbing that same finger toward the ground at her feet. "You stay _right here_. I mean it. Do. Not. _Move._ "

"Or you'll what, exactly?"

Jaw tightening, Dean didn't take the time to answer, just giving her another _**Look**_ before moving away to tend to his behemoth of a brother. _Hate to watch him go, but love to watch him leave…_

"This is ridiculous." _No, that sleeveless vest is ridiculous, Roy._ Chest puffed up, Roy's eyes darted around the camp before turning back to glare up at Sam. No doubt if he hadn't had an audience, he'd have backed down. But then he'd lose face and can't have _that_. So instead of doing the sane thing, Roy decided to go one step crazier than Sam and actually shoved the man. _Dude's got a deathwish._ "You know you're crazy, right?"

"Oh yeah? You ever hunt a Wen-" Raising a hand to shove Roy back—which likely would have knocked the smaller man flat on his ass—Sam was caught up short when Dean grabbed his arm. _If looks could kill, Dean would be a smoldering pile of ash right about now._

Showing no sign whatsoever of being the least bit afraid of Sam, Dean arched a brow at his brother, Dean jerked his head toward where Hailey and Ben stood watching the show with twin expressions of fear gracing their faces. "Take it easy, Sammy."

"Roy, stop it." Oh, and _now_ Hailey decided to speak up. Maybe she'd just been hoping Roy would get decked, too, but somehow Skye doubted it. "Everybody just _stop_." Moving to stand in between Sam and Roy, Hailey didn't seem to realize how dangerous it could be to get between two jerks looking to throw hands. Or more likely she just didn't care. "Look, Tommy might still be alive and I'm _not_ leaving here without him, so if you two are done with this macho bullshit, can we get back to why we're here in the first place? ...please?"

_Girl has a point._ Not that Skye had been in any danger of forgetting why they were out here to begin with, but the distraction from the imminent threat of doomy death had been nice while it lasted. Smiling as Dean hauled Sam over to where she stood, Skye craned her neck back to look up at the not-so-friendly giant. "Want me to kick his ass for you, Sasquatch? 'Cause I totally will."

"No thanks-"In spite of the cloud of anger hovering around him, Sam managed a smile at the offer, likely picturing how entertaining it'd be for her to try. _Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm not exactly threatening._ "-but the offer is appreciated, Midget."

"Alright, it's gettin' late and this thing is a good hunter in the day, but it is _unbelievable_ at night. We'll never beat it, not in the dark." Standing close enough that Skye could feel the heat radiating off of him, Dean ran a hand through his dark hair and glanced up at the sky, frowning at the rapidly dimming sunlight before turning that frown on her. _He's going to get wrinkles doing that._ "We need to settle in, protect ourselves."

"Yes, sir, Fearless Leader. Just tell me what to do..."


	15. Bond of Brothers

"Tell me again. Those are…?" Perched on a fallen log next to her little brother, Hailey broke the silence that had hovered stiflingly over them for the last half an hour. Dean could feel the woman watching him intently as he carved arcane symbols into the rocks and dirt at his feet. And she wasn't the only one, though Skye was trying hard to pretend she wasn't. It couldn't be coincidence that every time Dean glanced at her, she glanced away. _Least I sure as hell hope it's not._

"Anasazi symbols. For protection." Straightening, Dean sat back on his heels, the broken bit of rock he'd been using as chalk dangling from his fingertips as he flashed Hailey a smile. "The Wendigo-"

"Yeah, I'm gonna go with Charmed on this one." Kneeling next to the fire she'd started, Skye didn't even look up from where she was carefully stoking the flames. _Rude._ If she was going to interrupt him, the least she could do was give him a smile. "It's Wen-DIG-oh, not Wen-DEEG-oh."

"...if you say so, Hermione."

"Did you really just…" That caught her attention like he knew it would and she slowly turned her head to look at him, suppressed laughter flickering in those dark eyes. "You know what, I'm gonna take that as a compliment."

"You would." _She really is the biggest nerd._ Not that Dean was complaining. At least, not seriously. Really, he found it oddly—and aggravatingly—charming. _Sigh_. "As I was sayin', the Wen-DIG-oh can't cross them."

"Sure it can't." His Big Ass Gun cradled in his arms like an infant, Roy scoffed and glanced back at Dean, rudely rolling his eyes and interrupting the conversation with an opinion that was unasked for and unwanted. _Dude is definitely overcompensating for something._ "The pretty symbols keep the big, scary monsters away. Good one."

"Nobody likes a skeptic, Roy." Getting to his feet, Dean brushed his hands off on his jeans and tried to ignore the nagging compulsion to just beat the shit out of the man with a very large stick. There certainly wasn't any lack of them laying around.

It only took a few seconds for Dean to make his way across the camp to where Skye still knelt, slowly feeding the fire until it was as big and bright as it was likely to get. He couldn't have done better himself. _Wonder where she learned how to do that…_ Clearing his throat, he made sure he had her attention. Not that his presence alone wasn't enough for that. "I gotta go talk to Sam, so you stay put and don't wander off."

Unfolding herself, Skye stood and dusted her hands off as she craned her head back to look up at him. She _could_ have just stepped back and the fact that she didn't… Well, that probably meant a whole lot more than anyone else might think. "Do I look stupid to you?"

"You really want me to answer that?"

"Get bent, asshole." The teasing smile on her lips and the light in her eyes went a long way toward letting him know she meant that about as much as he meant to imply that she was stupid. If anything, she was brilliant. _And with any luck, we won't all die and I'll actually get to tell her so one of these days._ Leaning a little closer, Skye dropped her tone to a more conspiratorial whisper that wouldn't carry beyond Dean's ears, "Twenty bucks says Roy dies first."

Caught off guard, Dean couldn't stop the laugh that rumbled up to escape his lips, bringing a pleased smile to Skye's. "You're placing bets on their lives now?"

"No, just his." Wrinkling her nose up at him, she clasped her hands behind her back and rocked onto her heels before bouncing right back onto her toes, an endearing little mannerism he'd noticed more than once. _At least she's in a good mood, all things considered._ "What can I say, I'm a terrible person. You in?"

"Make it forty."

* * *

Elbows on his knees and head in his hands, Sam barely glanced up as Dean broke away from the others and made his way over. Sam tried to manage a smile, but it felt strained and fake, slipping away again as quickly as he'd managed to paste it on.

The fallen half-rotted log Sam sat on creaked and groaned as Dean's weight joined his own, Dean's voice drifting through the fog of anger and pain that clouded Sam's thoughts, "You wanna tell me what's goin' on in that freaky head a yours?"

With a purely internal sigh, Sam raised his head and tried a smile again, but if anything had even less success than before. "I'm fine, Dean-"

"No, man. You're not." Dean didn't have to add 'bullshit' to the beginning of that statement for Sam to hear it clear as day. "You're like a powder keg and that's just not like you." The concern in his brother's voice may not have been evident to anyone that didn't know him well, but Sam had been able to read Dean since he was in diapers and he knew it was there under the layer of 'humor' Dean used as a too-obvious defense mechanism. _Maybe I should have gone to school for psychology, instead._ "I'm supposed to be the belligerent one, remember?"

"Dad's not here." Hands dropping away from his face, Sam finally looked up at Dean, the weariness and frustration in his voice enough to make himself wince. He bordered on whiny and he didn't really like that, but he couldn't seem to do much to change it. _I just want all this to be over._ "I mean, that much we know for sure, right? He would have left us a message. A sign. _Something._ "

"Yeah…" With a soul-deep sigh, Dean ran a hand through his hair and gave Sam a wan smile, lifting a shoulder in a half-shrug. "To tell the truth, I don't think Dad's ever been within thirty miles of Lost Creek."

"Then why are we even still here?" The frustration that had built up over the last few days turned the whine in Sam's voice to a growl, the anger he'd been trying to keep at bay bubbling up from beneath the facade he'd been trying so hard to hold onto. "Let's get these people back to town and go find him."

For a long moment, Dean didn't answer, a thoughtful expression on his features that Sam doubted many others had ever seen. Reaching into his jacket, Dean produced the leather-bound journal that they both knew so well. They should, it was basically their own personal Bible. Tapping the thick volume in the palm of his hand, Dean didn't look at Sam as he spoke, "Because of this. This book-This is Dad's most valuable possession. Everything he knows about every evil thing is in here and he's passed it on to us."

Dean's voice trailed off for a brief moment before he turned to meet Sam's eyes, all trace of humor gone as he turned as serious as Sam had ever seen him. "...I think he wants us to pick up where he left off. You know. Saving people, hunting things. The family business."

"That-that makes no _sense._ Why? Why doesn't he just _call us_?" This was the thing Sam just couldn't quite get his head around, and from the expression on Dean's face, he wasn't the only one. "Why doesn't he just tell us what he wants? Or at least let us know that he's okay?"

"I don't know, Sam, but Dad's given us a job and I intend to do it."

"Dean… I have to find Dad. I _have_ to. I have to find the thing that killed Jessica." Blinking rapidly at the sting of tears that just her name brought to his eyes, Sam ignored the urge to cry and his own grief-roughened voice as he struggled to get the words out. "It's-it's all I can think about."

"We'll find him, Sam. I promise. And we'll find the thing that killed Jess, but you gotta listen to me-" Dean reached up and grasped Sam's shoulder, giving it a squeeze in a way that Dean probably _thought_ was reassuring but was just as likely to leave a few finger-shaped bruises. "This search could take awhile and all that anger boiling up inside you-you can't keep it burnin' over the long haul, man. It'll kill you." Giving Sam's shoulder a shake before releasing him, Dean sighed and tucked the journal back in whatever pocket he'd produced it from before he gave Sam a rueful smile. "You just gotta have patience, Sammy."

"How do you and Dad do it?"

"Them." With a jerk of his head toward the camp and the people sitting around the fire, Dean's smile turned brighter and more sincere as his gaze slid over to the little brunette sitting there with the others. Apparently Skye was telling some story or other, as Hailey and Ben were laughing at whatever she was saying and even Roy was smiling. _She certainly has a way with people._ "I figure our family's so screwed to Hell, maybe we can help some others. Makes things a little more bearable."

"And I'll tell you what else helps-" Sam watched as Dean dragged his gaze away from Skyler with an effort before meeting Sam's own, the smile on Dean's lips turning a little more feral and a lot more frightening. _He really is a little crazy._ No big surprise. You couldn't be raised the way they were and still be a fully-functional human being. "-killin' as many evil sons of bitches as I possibly can."

"...and you're really okay dragging her into this?"

"...no. No, I'm really not, but what else can I do, Sam?" Sagging a bit, Dean looked almost defeated as he gave Sam a helpless shrug and scrubbed his hands over his face before continuing in a pained voice. The kind of pain Sam didn't ever expect to hear from his brother. "I don't-I don't know what else to do, this is all I know and she-" Dean's eyes slid inexorably back toward Skyler and for just a second, he looked physically nauseous. "The thought of her gettin' hurt absolutely scares the shit outta me in a way I never even thought possible, but-"

"I never thought I'd see the day." Clapping a hand on Dean's shoulder, Sam interrupted before Dean could either throw up or start waxing poetic, neither of which Sam particularly wanted to see. A smile on his lips that felt more sincere than any he'd managed since Jess died, Sam gave Dean's shoulder a shake. "You guys will figure it out, I know you will. The way she looks at you…" His smile turning into a full-on grin, Sam shifted his voice into the kind of singsong lilt that only annoying little brothers could manage, "Skyler and Dean sitting in a tree-"

"It's like you want me to shoot you."


	16. First Blood

" _Help! Help! Please!"_ That cry again, shattering the stillness around the camp for the second time. At least now they knew it wasn't actually anyone in trouble. Nope, just a monster hell bent on eating them all like Little Debbie snack cakes. _Fun times_...

"It's just tryin' to draw us out." Motioning for everyone to stay exactly where they were, Dean's eyes slid over to Skye as she drew a little closer to him. Not that she was scared or anything. Nope, not a bit. And not like Dean's mere presence was way more reassuring than it had any right to be. _Of course it's not. ...liar._ "Just stay put."

"Yeah." With a derisive snort, Roy rolled his eyes so hard that Skye was amazed when they didn't pop out of his stupid face to roll around in the dirt at his feet. _Damn, I wish Sam had decked him when he had the chance._ "Let's all just stay inside the 'magic circle'."

" _Please! Somebody help me!"_

"Okay…" Roy brought his gun up, slowly turning to face the woods. The skeptical expression on his face fading as he finally seemed to get it through his thick skull that this wasn't the ordinary kind of furry critter he was used to sharing the wilderness with. "That's no grizzly."

"No shit, numbnuts." Wrapping her arms around herself, Skye tried to ignore the shiver that crept up her spine. If asked, she could always blame it on the cold. Glancing at Dean as he giggled at the 'numbnuts' comment, she couldn't help but smile before turning her attention back to Roy. _Hey, at least someone thinks I'm funny._ "About time you pulled your head out of your ass and started listenin' to what we've been sayin' the whole damn time."

"It's okay. We'll be alright, I promise." Hailey's voice drifted on the slight breeze that ruffled her hair, putting an arm around Ben's shoulder and pulling him closer as she murmured reassurances just loud enough for Skye to overhear. Skye hadn't been lying when she'd told Dean she had excellent hearing. Unfortunately, there were definitely times she wished she didn't, and this was one of them. _I just hope that's a promise we can keep._

A rustle in the trees drew the attention of everyone in the camp and before anyone could say a damn thing to stop him, Roy managed to squeeze off two shots. His voice filled with elation a split second before he took off into the treeline, leaving just his words hovering behind him, "I hit it!"

"Roy, _don't!_ Roy!" Dean only took about half a step before he hesitated and turned back, looking down at Skye. It was obvious that he was torn between tearing off after Skeptical Roy the Asshat and staying right where he was. It didn't help matters that Sam had no such internal conflict, going after Roy the second Roy had crossed the 'magic circle'.

"Son of a _bitch_." Dean hadn't even gotten the word all the way out before he was booking it after Sam, his last command hanging in the air for a long moment after he was no longer visible, "Stay here!"

_Where am I going to go? Shopping?_ With only the briefest pause to consider her options, Skye grabbed the end of a long stick out of the fire and placed herself firmly between Hailey, Ben, and the Big, Bad Woods. Not that she could do much, but Wendigo weren't too fond of fire...right?

* * *

"It's over here! It's in the tr-" Roy's voice carried easily in the still air, echoing around them before cutting off abruptly. The sheer suddenness was sickening and Skye had no doubt she'd just won that bet.

"Just stay put, guys, as close to the fire as you can." Yeah, like she knew what the hell she was talking about… But hey, she could fake it with the best of them. She glanced over at Hailey and Ben, their stricken expressions mirroring her own. "There's nothing else we can do."

Every heartbeat seemed to take about a dozen eternities and the silence stretched out around them, thick as taffy and twice as cloying.

_Come on you guys, where are you…_

It couldn't have been more than a couple of minutes before the underbrush rustled and Sam and Dean stepped back into the camp, but it sure as hell felt like a lot longer. It was all Skye could do to lock her knees to stop herself from just collapsing on the spot as relief washed through her. _Oh, fucking finally._

Approaching slowly with a brow raised toward the burning branch in her hand, Dean smiled. Or at least it would have been a smile if he didn't look like he'd just been punched in the stomach. "...and you were gonna do what with that, exactly?"

"Figured I'd smack it around some-" She tossed the branch back into the fire, flinching hard when a pocket of tree-sap heated and popped in the flames. Not that anyone could blame her for being a bit jumpy. "That or just try and look extra tasty, maybe be tough to chew."

"Well, you've managed at least one of those things."

Skye felt her skin flush at his words and knew damn well she was turning all different shades of red—yet again—and from Dean's grin, she was sure he could see it in spite of the darkness that was falling fast around them. _Great_. Clearing her throat, she tried to say something witty or sarcastic and failed entirely, but luckily for her, Sam was a sweetheart and stepped in to save her any further embarrassment.

Clapping his hands sharply, Sam got everyone's attention, his voice raised so there was no difficulty hearing a single syllable, "Alright, everyone settle in. Nobody's stepping foot outside of this camp until full daylight."


	17. Touch Therapy

The not-quite-full moon hung heavy above the horizon, bathing the clearing in cold, clear light that was more than enough to see by. _So at least I'll be able to watch the thing eat me_. Her back against a fallen log and her eyes roving over the treeline, Skye fully believed something was going to come rushing out at her any second now. _Not exactly an unreasonable expectation, given the circumstances._

Muffled footsteps of the booted variety alerted her to Dean's approach. The thick carpet of fallen leaves made it impossible to walk silently, even for him. Good thing, too, because if he'd tried sneaking up on her right then, she just might have beaten him to death with his own dismembered limbs. A messy job, sure, but doable if she tried hard enough.

His hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket, Dean nodded toward the patch of dirt next to her and half-smiled in that particular way that somehow managed to warm her in spite of the chill in the air. "This seat taken?"

"Yeah, sorry, my date should be right back." Crossing her arms, she leaned her head back, more than willing to let her eyes shift from the intimidating trees to the much more picturesque man standing in front of her. For a brief moment, her breath caught in her chest as she looked at him, his green eyes so bright in the moonlight that they seemed to glow. _Why is he so goddamn pretty? It's just not fair_. "Somethin' on your mind, Winchester?"

The smile on Dean's lips faded into non-existence and he shrugged a single shoulder, glancing away before answering, "Nope, not a thing."

"Bullshit." It wasn't like she'd spent the better part of the two weeks watching every damn move the man made—not that she'd admit as much—and it really wasn't hard to read him when you'd been within a foot of him for hours and days at a stretch. Between that and the long and random conversations they'd been having lately, she'd like to think she was getting to know him rather well. He was upset, and it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out why. Scooting over a bit, she gave Dean a little more room as he lowered himself to sit down next to her. "...it's not your fault, Dean. You tried to tell him."

"Yeah. I know."

"I'm here if you wanna talk about it." Acting on impulse, Skye reached over and slipped her hand into Dean's, willing to do anything to get that shadow of guilt behind his eyes to fade. Fully expecting that familiar sense of dread and discomfort to creep up her neck like it always did, she was more than mildly surprised when it just...didn't. Considering what she'd been meaning to talk to him about, that was probably a good thing. "I mean it, Dean. If you ever need anything..."

"I know." Before she could pull away, he closed his fingers around hers, capturing her hand in a feather-light grip that held her more firmly than anything else possibly could have. Between that smile and the thumb stroking lazy lines back and forth across her knuckles, Skye found it next to impossible to breathe for a moment, let alone move. "And one of these days, I think I might just take you up on that."

Somehow Skye managed to gather thoughts scattered to the four winds by his touch, eventually squeezing out a few words. "Like maybe one of these days when we're not in the middle of nowhere living out a fucked up B-horror movie?"

_That laugh…_ Not that Skye could have picked a favorite thing about Dean if her life depended on it, but his laugh was definitely high on the list. It didn't happen often, but when he really found something funny or it hit him unexpectedly, he'd just throw back his head and laugh with his whole body—with everything that he was—until he couldn't breathe and tears pricked his eyes. It ranked right up there with Belgian chocolate and Mercedes Lackey as The Best Thing Ever.

It took Dean a minute to catch his breath, his smile turning into that 1000-watt grin that sent warm-fuzzies shooting from the tips of her toes to the crown of her head and back again, waking up a whole swarm of butterflies in her stomach. Then again, those butterflies rarely slept these days.

Wiping his eyes with the hem of the t-shirt he wore half-hidden under his jacket and a long-sleeve button-up—and giving a nice flash of solidly muscled stomach—Dean just shook his head and switched the subject as soon as he was up to speaking again, "Alright. Now, wasn't there somethin' you wanted to talk to me about? Some kinda' favor...?"

* * *

The heavy scent of burning wood and the soft murmur of voices drifted across the clearing, softening the silence that wrapped around them as Skyler took several minutes to find the right words. More than willing to give her all the time she needed, Dean held himself as still as possible, afraid the slightest movement would make her realize her hand was still clasped in his. He wasn't above taking advantage of a little distraction if it meant holding onto her a little longer.

Taking a deep breath that did interesting things to a chest he was trying real hard not to stare at—because come on, he was only human—Skye finally looked up to meet Dean's eyes, a rueful smile playing around the edges of her lips. "Have you ever heard of immersion therapy?"

_Immersion therapy?_ Not quite what he'd been expecting, but then he hadn't known what to expect in the first place. He rarely did where she was concerned, but he found he kind of liked the surprise. "That's like when someone's scared of clowns or some shit and they get taken to the circus to get over it, right?"

"Somethin' like that, yeah." Her fingers twitched in his as she snorted, swallowing a laugh and rolling her eyes like sometimes she just couldn't believe some of the shit that popped out of his mouth. That was only fair, Dean was pretty sure she didn't believe some of the shit that popped out of her own sometimes. "Not exactly how I'd've put it, but not wrong."

"What about it?"

"Well, I've been doin' a lot of thinkin' lately and… I wanna try it. Or something like it, anyway." Warm brown eyes lowered to settle briefly on their clasped hands before she looked back up at him, the shy smile spreading across her lips more than enough to make his heart beat faster. "...and I was hoping you could help."

_She can't possibly mean what I think she means_. "Are you sayin' what I _think_ you're sayin'?"

"I'm sayin' I want you to touch me more." The grin that spread across her face lit her up like the 4th of July and for just a minute, there wasn't anything else but her. No monsters. No fear. No guilt. Just one little brown-eyed girl bathed in moonlight, looking at him like he was the only thing in the Universe. "I mean, you can say no-"

"Now hold up a second, let's not be hasty." ' _I want you to touch me more.'_ The words echoed in Dean's brain and he had to wonder if that was what people meant when they said they felt giddy. _And here it's not even my birthday. ...there's got to be a catch._ "What-what _exactly_ do you mean by that?"

"Which word are you havin' trouble understanding?"

"All of them."

"Touch. Verb. To come into or be in contact with-"

Eyes rolling back so far in his head it's a wonder they didn't stick, Dean blew out an exasperated breath that may or may not have been half giggle. Not that a grown-ass man like him ever _giggled_ , but if ever there was a time for it… "You are the biggest pain in my ass, Pixie Stick."

"Thank you, I try." The faux-haughty expression she'd been going for melted away and she wrinkled her nose at him, her lips curving up into that sweet smile that reached in and warmed every part of him more effectively than whiskey ever had. "I just mean that you don't have to keep stoppin' yourself."

" _..._ you've noticed that, huh?" Because of course she had. _I'm never going to be able to get away with jack-shit ever again._ Not as disturbing a thought as he'd have figured it'd be, but certainly not the most comforting either.

"I've noticed. Sam's noticed. Pretty sure Hailey's noticed. Ben has _definitely_ noticed and I think he's a little jealous…" Biting back a laugh as Dean's hand tightened around hers at the mention of Ben's name, Skye's voice took on a teasing note that was infinitely preferable than the mocking one she'd have used just a week before. "Face it, Winchester, subtle just isn't your thing."

"Alright, fair enough." Chewing on his lip, Dean looked down at the small hand resting in his, acutely aware of the rapid pulse beneath his fingertips. She might be laughing now, but that was more than enough to tell him she'd been more worked up over this conversation than she wanted to let on.

A thousand and one questions roiled in Dean's mind, turning over and over for a long moment until he couldn't help but ask the only one that actually mattered, "...why me, Skye?"

"Why not you?" Giving him a look that was equal parts 'you're adorable' and 'you're such a dumbass', Skye tugged at his unresisting hand, moving it to her lap and taking it in both of hers. A greatly daring move, at least for her, but the part that really surprised him was the fact that she didn't seem to be showing any of her usual signs of distress at the prolonged contact. "You're a good man, Dean, maybe the best one I've ever met."

"That's not-" A rush of warmth filled him at her words and Dean found himself protesting without quite knowing what it was he meant to say. That _anyone_ could think of him like that—let alone _her_ —was enough to strike him speechless. " _I'm_ not-"

"What, you want reasons?" Pulling her legs up, she laid his open hand on her knees—which was perfectly fine by him, especially considering it forced him to scoot a little closer—and folded each finger one-by-one as she started counting off reasons.

One. "Because you feel bad about Roy-"

Two. "-and because you apologized to Mr. Shaw-"

Three. "-and because you're a closet nerd-"

Four. "-and because you call me Tinkerbell-"

With each successive reason, Dean felt the blush reddening his skin getting warmer until there was just one left. Looking up to meet his undoubtedly dumbstruck gaze, Skye tapped his last finger and smiled as she finally—and regretfully, at least on his part—relinquished his hand. "...and because you'd rather take the stairs."

"I don't-"

"Shut up and take the compliment, Winchester."

"Yes, _ma'am_." Try as he might, Dean couldn't keep the idiotic smile off his face at the 'or else' not in her voice. _So fucking bossy._ Fighting past the mush that was currently his brain, it took him way too damn long to force a fully coherent sentence out. _At least, I hope it's coherent._ "So uh...you got any specific ideas about this or…?"

"A few." Leaning back against the fallen log that separated them from the rest of the camp, Skye stretched her how-in-the-hell-are-they-that-long legs out in front of her and crossed her arms. Smirking, she studied him through narrowed eyes, as if to gauge his reaction to her next words. "You ever wanted to learn how to dance?"

Not once since the 7th grade Sadie Hawkins Day dance had Dean even considered dancing—at least not where another person could see it—but suddenly he couldn't think of a single thing he wanted more in the entire world. "I do now."


	18. Who You Gonna Call

Hands clasped firmly between her knees, Skyler tried not to let her teeth chatter as she silently cursed the cannibalistic horror that wasn't only stalking them, but had also had the utter _gall_ to steal their bags. She'd had a sweater in there. And snacks. And a first aid kit. And her _discman_. Really it was the last that hurt the most, but she was trying not to dwell as it's not like it'd do a damn bit of good anyway.

Dean, of course, looked about as comfortable as if they were back in their crappy, low-budget motel room. Not to say he was relaxed—she wasn't sure he ever actually relaxed—but he certainly looked the part as he reclined against the fallen tree with his hands laced behind his head. She didn't mean to stare, but… _He is just way too damn easy on the eyes._

He must have felt her watching him—okay, _staring obsessively_ —because he finally turned his attention away from the darkness crowding around them and met her eyes. Arching a brow, he took in her current popsicle-esque state and immediately started stripping out of his jacket without saying a single word about it. Not that she didn't appreciate when he started stripping, but no way was she going to let _him_ go without when it was like forty degrees. _It could be worse, it could be snowing._ "I'm good, thanks."

"Come on, Tink, you're freezing."

"You're not wrong-" Waving off a renewed effort to get her to take his coat, she leveled a look at him that she hoped came off as 'knock it off or I'll feed you to our fuzzy friend with a side of ranch and an iced-tea' but probably came off more 'knock it off or I'll make you watch another 6-hour marathon of Gilmore Girls'. Not the most intimidating thing ever, but it got the point across. "-but still no."

"Stubborn little-" The laughter in his voice took all the heat out of his words and it didn't hurt that he wasn't stupid enough to finish whatever uncomplimentary thing he'd been about to say. She was already cranky and uncomfortable—not to mention starving—and if he'd had the nerve to call her names right then, she just might have used him for kindling. His lips twitched as he suppressed a smile before he glanced back over his shoulder at the others huddled on the far side of the clearing. "We could always go warm up by the fire."

"We _could_." She'd have been more enthusiastic if he'd suggested they go watch paint dry for fun and profit. Sure she was slowly freezing to death, but was a little heat worth going _all_ the way over _there_ when she'd much rather be _here_ with _him? ..._ No, no it was not, but there were always alternative solutions. Of course, in this instance, those 'alternative solutions' were almost as terrifying to think about as the ravenous monster that was currently somewhere out there dreaming about making them into entrees…

Taking a breath to steady nerves that were suddenly screaming, she caught Dean's eye and grinned, refusing to let on how high her anxiety had just spiked. _In for a penny, in for a pound, right?_ "...or we could always keep each other warm."

In spite of their earlier conversation, she knew she'd caught him off-guard, though that may have just been the way she'd phrased it. She also knew the exact moment what she'd said finally penetrated because he went from dumbstruck to laughing in just under .02 seconds. "Are you-Are you hitting on me with my own line?"

"Maybe." Wrapping her arms around her knees, she flashed him a Cheshire Cat grin, knowing full well there was no way he was about to turn down an offer like that. "You complaining?"

"Hell no."

* * *

It would have been so easy to close his eyes and forget everything else as the sweet, subtle scent of her rose up to wrap itself around him, thawing him as thoroughly on the inside as her body heat did on the out. The hunger gnawing at his stomach—the recent and presumably bloody demise of Skeptical Roy—even the imminent threat of a grisly death… It all paled in comparison to the feel of her small, warm body tucked against his.

Actually, 'small' might be a bit of an understatement. He'd known full well she was a tiny little thing—more than a foot shorter and literally half his weight—but it hadn't really sunk in _how_ tiny until he'd finally managed to get an arm around her. And from what he could tell, every damn bit of her was muscle. Well, okay, maybe not _every_ bit…

_No wonder she hits like a brick._

Leaning his head back, Dean idly watched the stars shine far overhead as a dozen thoughts wound round and round in his mind. One by one, they all fell away until only one remained.

_This could be my life._

Yes, there'd be pain and loss and literal flesh-eating monsters but...but what if he could share it with someone else? What if he could share it with _her_. There wasn't a doubt in his mind she'd be good at it with a little training, maybe one of the best, but...

 _She'll get hurt._ _Or worse._

Not just a possibility but a certainty given his line of work. Could he really live with that? Wouldn't it be better for her to just get through this one job, break the curse that bound them together, and then leave her at the closest bus station?

_**No.** _

That thought barely formed before he rejected it so forcefully it made his head hurt. Much as he might like to try to deny it, he knew there was no way he'd ever be able to simply let her go like that. Well, not without aiming Baby at a cliff right after, and he wasn't quite ready to die just yet.

_So what the hell am I supposed to do?_

That was a stupid queston, of course. He knew exactly what he _should_ do, but he also knew what he _wanted_ to do, and the latter had won out the minute he'd shown up on her doorstep in New Orleans, whether he liked it or not... So why was this so hard?

_Just ask her. She's a big girl, she can make her own decisions._

"I can feel you thinkin' up there, Winchester." A slow smile crept across Skye's lips as she tilted her head back to look up at him. For just a second, Dean was caught by the soft glow of moonlight highlighting fair skin. _Any paler and she'd sparkle like something out of aTwilight novel._ Not that Dean had read those. Or seen the movies. Twice. "Somethin' on your mind?"

_Nothing much, just my entire future, which I kind of think I want to spend with you, even though I haven't even known you for a month yet and hey, would you be at all interested in learning how to brutally kill things for a job that pays dick and has a ninety-nine percent mortality rate before you hit forty?_

_..._ Yeah, that wasn't insane at _all_.

 _Just_ _**do it** _ _._

Taking a deep breath to steady the erratic beat of his heart, Dean met her gaze and spared a thought to hope she wasn't able to see the unease twisting him into knots. Why was it so hard to find the right words?

"...you remember earlier, when I called you out of camp and I asked you if you-if you wanted to uh-"

"If I wanted to what?" Eyes narrowed in what he was fairly sure was concern, she arched a brow at him, giving him a quizzical look as she tried to puzzle out what the hell he was talking about. It wasn't hard to see the exact moment the lightbulb clicked on over her head as she thought back to their earlier conversation and put two and two together. "...you mean when you asked if I wanted to be a really real Ghostbuster?"

Exasperation and amusement warred for a moment—as well as a nearly physical pain at the name—and Dean winced as he scrubbed a hand over his face. "Do you _really_ have to call it that?"

Her laughing reply dispelled his exasperation like smoke on the wind and left only the amusement behind as she settled back against him, "Oh, you know I _really_ do."

"You know what? Nevermind. Forget it." Tightening his arm around her, Dean tried to sound indignant but was forced to look away when a grin he couldn't suppress stole across his lips. "I changed my mind, I don't wanna talk to you anymore."

"Aww, are words hard, Dean?" Turning in the crook of his arm, Skye snuggled just a little bit closer and laid her head on his shoulder. Her smile widened as he looked down and met her gaze, sending sparks straight into his bloodstream and making his heart beat just a little faster. "Come on, you can do it. I believe in you."

"Smartass." The word slipped out, more a term of endearment than an insult. She was a smartass, for sure—hell, she prided herself on that fact—but he had to admit he wouldn't have her any other way. She was just so...Skye. There really wasn't any other description for her, nothing else was good enough. She was just Skye.

Hesitating briefly, Dean reached up slowly, his fingertips grazing her cheek as he brushed a few stray strands of dark hair out of her eyes. "You know, if I buried you out here, no one would ever find your body."

"True, but you'd miss me." She leaned into his touch instead of flinching away as he'd feared she might, her eyelids half-closed as she wrinkled her nose at him. "Face it, Winchester. You _like_ me."

"I do, huh?" If someone had told him a month ago that he'd be sitting here fantasizing about how the rest of his life might go if there were someone else in it—let alone a mouthy, bite-sized little brat of a thing barely out of High School—he'dve called them crazy and very possibly punched them in the face. Now, though… 'Like' didn't begin to cover it. "Says who?"

Looking adorably smug, Skye got that familiar stubborn tilt to her chin that made him want to simultaneously strangle her and kiss her. Too bad Dean didn't dare do either one. _Yet_. "Says me. And Sam. And Hailey. And-"

"Alright, I get it. I'm not subtle." Laughing in spite of himself, Dean was forced to concede defeat before her list got any longer.

Grinning proudly like she'd just won some kind of victory—or maybe like he were some sort of prize—Skye snuggled up a little closer, her hand resting just above his heart. It was even better than it'd been in his dreams. "Now, weren't you tryin' to ask me somethin' or...?"

_She's really going to make me say it..._

"Would you want to learn how to be a-Would you want to learn how to be a ' _Ghostbuster_ '?" Clearing his throat, he managed to get out the words he knew she was waiting for. Because she was a brat. A cute, funny, smart, giant pain-in-the-ass brat. "Look, it's not an easy gig, and it's not somethin' anyone lives to a ripe old age doing, and I don't want you gettin' hurt but-"

A thoughtful look in her eyes, Skye (thankfully) interrupted before he could trip over himself any more than he already was, "Did I ever tell you what I wanted to be growing up?"

"I thought you wanted to be a dancer."

"Yes...and no." Focusing on the soft, furry tones of her Midwestern accent, Dean tried to ignore the feel of her nails grazing his skin through the fabric of his t-shirt as she picked and twisted at the dark fabric. He could feel the tension rising in her, the hitch in her chest as she took a deep breath before continuing, "I'm a good dancer, Dean. Like... _really_ good. I mean, I know that's gotta sound pretty egotistical and narcissistic, but-but I-"

"No, it's not." Not that he wouldn't have been quite happy to let her stammer on forever as she tried to convince him she wasn't just full of herself—it was so fucking _cute_ —but that probably would have been a dick move. Covering her hand with his own—partly to reassure and partly to get her to stop trying to tear his shirt to shreds—Dean smiled. "That first morning at the hotel when I woke up and you weren't there, I went lookin'. I saw you in the ballroom and..."

"...and?"

"And it's about the closest thing I've ever had to a religious experience." Okay, so he hadn't quite meant to say it that way, but it was nothing but the truth. There wasn't a single doubt in Dean's mind that the way she moved in the sunlight streaming in through the ballroom windows would forever be one of his most cherished memories...but still, that was probably a little more 'obsessive creep' than he wanted to come off as. "I mean-I didn't-"

"That is probably the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me, and that includes the time an inebriated customer told me they'd totally pay for my services if I were a prostitute." Before he could start his own round of stammering, she interrupted, once again saving him from his own verbal ineptitude. "Of course, that was right after tellin' me I reminded him of his 15-year-old step-daughter."

"Wow. Settin' a real high bar there, aren't you?" Yeah, nothing Dean could possibly say was going to top _that_ , which was honestly a bit of a relief. He was a sweet, fluffy marshmallow in comparison. "Now, weren't you sayin' something about what you wanted to be?"

"Pipe down, I'm gettin' to that." Waving him to silence, she leaned her head back against his shoulder and turned her eyes to the stars spinning lazily overhead. Whatever it was she wanted to share, it had her wound tight and anxious, though he wouldn't have been able to tell she was more than a little bothered if he hadn't been able to physically feel her heart rate skyrocket. "I uh- I got a scholarship to a-to a dance academy. One of the best in the country. I'm supposed to start my first semester in the Spring."

It was all Dean could do not to flinch as his stomach dropped into his boots and his chest tightened painfully.

... _can't breathe..._

"...why didn't you say something sooner?"

* * *

"...why didn't you say something sooner?"

And what exactly had Skye been supposed to say? And when exactly had she been supposed to say it? When her and Dean were bickering like grade-schoolers? Or maybe when they were digging up the long-dead corpses of _actual_ grade-schoolers? Or how about maybe when Sam had been having a complete breakdown over the woman he loved dying brutally _on the fucking ceiling_?

"Dean, I-" Whatever she'd been about to say evaporated from both mind and tongue as she got a good look at Dean's face and registered the rapid triphammering of his heartbeat. Hell, the man was practically _vibrating._

Without a second thought, she reached for him, wanting nothing more than to chase away whatever it was putting that look on his face. Her brow furrowed in concern, she laid a hand against his cheek, gently tilting his head down to meet her eyes. "Hey, look at me. Are you okay?"

He blinked down at her as if to clear his vision and leaned into her touch, though something told her he wasn't aware he was doing so. His words came out clipped and tense, almost angry. Not that Dean sounding angry was particularly unusual, but... "Yeah. I'm good."

"Bullshit." Pulling her hand back, she shifted so she could get a better look at him, though that meant letting the jacket that covered them both slip. And it was _cold_. Almost as cold as the look in Dean's eye. "You are _literally_ grey right now, and you're sweating and it's like forty degrees out...and I don't think you've taken a full breath in at least a minute."

She had her suspicions as to what the issue was—she'd had enough panic attacks to recognize the physical symptoms in someone else—but she couldn't figure out what had set it off. "Come on, Dean. Talk to me. What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, I'm fine." Those bottle-green eyes of his slid away from hers and he looked away, avoiding looking at her as he attempted to brush off the issue. Like she was about to let _that_ happen. "Just give me a minute."

Uh huh.

"Here, give me your hand." Without waiting for him to comply on his own, she grabbed his wrist and put his palm flat against her chest, directly over her heart. Panic attack or not, that was enough to get his attention. "Close your eyes and breathe with me. Just focus on breathing. In…" Inhaling slowly, she held the breath for a few seconds before exhaling just as slowly. "...and out…"

Inhale. Slow release. Repeat.

It took a few minutes, but the color slowly returned to Dean's chalky skin. Opening his eyes, he reluctantly took his hand back and smiled. Well, it was mostly a smile, anyway. "...thanks. I'm-I'm alright now. I just uh…"

"You just had an anxiety attack. It happens." Granted, before ten minutes ago, she wouldn't have expected them to happen to _him,_ but really it wasn't too surprising. The man hadn't exactly had a white picket-fence childhood, though he thus far had refused to acknowledge that—in its own way—his had been every bit as bad as hers. Worse, in some ways. "And I'm gonna guess from your lack of reaction that this isn't your first one."

"No, but it's been awhile." And from his tone and the change in subject that followed, he didn't really want to talk about it. _Shocking._ "You were sayin' something about leaving in the Spring?"

"Well no, actually I was sayin' somethin' else entirely, but then you had a bit of a conniption before I could finish." The blank brick-wall look on his face didn't change by so much as a twitch of an eyelid and she swallowed a sigh. She hadn't seen _that_ look since they'd first met. She hadn't missed it. "You sure you don't wanna talk about it?"

"Do I look like I wanna talk about it?"

 _Oh, for fucks sake…_ Eyes narrowing as her own temper flared, Skye crossed her arms, giving back back stony stare for stony stare. "If you're gonna bite my head off, be a little more thorough next time. I think you left some spine attached." The brief flash of guilt in his eyes was enough to make her regret her words. Or at least _almost_. After all, he'd started it. "...now do you wanna hear what I was gonna say or do you just wanna go ahead and fight, 'cause I can go either way."

"'I'm not-" The words came out a good decibel or two louder (not to mention harsher) than he'd likely intended, which Dean must have realized because he snapped his mouth shut so fast she'd swear she heard his teeth click.

His nostrils flared and she could see the muscle in his jaw twitch as he took a second to keep a rein on his temper. After a good ten seconds—which she'd be willing to bet is what he'd been counting—he tried again, "What were you gonna say, Skyler?"

"You know what, I'm gonna take that as an apology. Now, as I was saying... I got a full-ride scholarship to the Tisch School of the Arts up in New York. I'm supposed to start in May, and I have a guaranteed audition with the American Ballet Theater the second I graduate." Skye couldn't manage to keep a smile off her lips as Dean's arm tightened around her, pulling her more closely against him at the mention of 'New York'. If he thought she was still going after all this… _Dumbass_.

Snagging Dean's jacket from where it had slipped, she settled back into her spot against his side and waited until he slid his arm around her before spreading it over them both. No reason to freeze to death just because they were having a tense conversation. Besides, she had a feeling he'd feel a lot better once she spoke her piece. "...but I'm about to tell you my dirty little secret. I love dancing, I do, but I _hate_ ballet."

"Did you know I'm considered overweight for a dancer my size? I've also been told my boobs are too big and I should get a reduction if I really wanna make it as a 'professional'." Rolling her eyes at the mere suggestion that she'd undergo major surgery to drop a cup size, Skye caught Dean opening his mouth to say something and gave him an elbow to the ribs and a _Look_ that stopped him cold _._ "Are you about to comment on my boobs, Winchester?"

Smiling in that charming, 'I'm just a sweet, All-American Boy' way he had that tended to set off the butterflies in her stomach and the TV static in her brain, Dean tried to play off the accusation, "Would I do that?"

A hundred replies flickered through Skye's brain to such a dumb question. Everything from 'is water wet' to 'do bears shit in the woods' and she couldn't pick a favorite, ultimately deciding to just go with a deadpan stare that more than got her point across and had the added bonus of forcing a reluctant chuckle out of Dean.

_He's got such a great laugh._

For a moment, Skye was caught by the moment and her thoughts fuzzed out, refusing to focus on anything other than how good he sounded. And looked. And _felt.._.

Growing up, she must have imagined what it'd be like to cuddle up against someone a million times in a million different scenarios. She'd always figured that it would take some time to get used to, that—at least at first—she'd be tense and awkward and uncomfortable but… Never once in her almost nineteen years had she imagined she'd feel _safe_.

It was ridiculous, really, and more than a little insane. Here she was, sitting in the middle of literal nowhere with a virtual stranger while an honest-to-God flesh-eating monster paraded around in the woods somewhere not five-hundred feet away...and she felt more at ease and cared for than she could ever remember.

The sheer bittersweet absurdity caught her off-guard and she couldn't help but laugh, and it wasn't the nice kind of laugh, being more of the 'if I don't laugh, I'll cry' variety. And the concerned look Dean was giving her now didn't help any.

"You alright, Tinkerbell?"

It took her a second to catch her breath—though she couldn't figure out if that was from the near-hysterical laughter or the lump in her throat—but she finally managed a smile and a 'yeah', which seemed to placate Dean long enough for her to get her thoughts back into order. Running a hand through her hair, Skye tried to pick up the thread of conversation she hadn't meant to drop. _What was I even saying…_

"So anyway...all that-All the training and the scholarship and everything-All that was just a means to an end, you know? I was gonna get _famous._ " With a shake of her head, she closed her eyes, managing a wry smile as she realized how ridiculous she must sound. "...at least, famous in certain circles. Jesus, I must sound so stupid-"

"I don't think you could sound stupid if you tried." Wrapping the end of a braid around his fingertip, Dean gave it a gentle tug, as if reprimanding her for daring to call herself names. After all, that was _his_ job. Or at least it had been for the last few weeks and no matter how this turned out, she didn't see that changing any time real soon.

Dean let her hair slide through his fingers before having the audacity to poke the end of her nose with a fingertip, "So what, your end goal was fame?"

"No, that was the 'means' part." Trying not to smile, Skye snapped at the end of his finger, her teeth closing on empty air as he hastily pulled his hand away. "The end goal was to go into social work."

Blinking down at her, Dean couldn't have looked more surprised if she'd said she was actually an ancient being from the dawn of time. "...you're serious?"

"Yup, I'm serious." Laying her head on Dean's shoulder and a hand on his chest, Skye let the steady beat of his heart and the rhythm of his breath soothe frayed nerves. She'd never told anyone any of this—not even Anthony—but somehow it wasn't as difficult a conversation as she'd pictured. "I was going to retire at 35 and use whatever money I'd saved and whatever fame I'd accumulated to lobby to get changes made to the children's welfare system in Oklahoma. Maybe the whole US."

"The whole fuckin' system is a mess, Dean. It's so broken and there are so many kids out there that just slip through the cracks. They go through hell and when they try to tell someone…" Voice thick with the ghosts of old pain, Skye was forced to stop and take a breath and clear her throat before she could continue, "They scream for help and no one hears them. They get told that they should be thankful because there are so many people out there that have it even worse, or that they deserve it, or they get told that-that they're crazy and it's all in their head."

... _stupid…._

_...crazy…_

_...worthless…_

_...no one will ever believe you…._

_Shut_ _ **up,**_ _Mama._

"...they get told so often that sometimes they even start to believe it, even when they've got the marks to prove it..."

"Skyler, I-"

"I'm not looking for-" Skye cut herself off, not even quite sure what she meant to say. Pity, maybe? But that wasn't a look of pity on Dean's face. Sympathy, yes. Empathy, maybe. And something else, something she wasn't quite ready to acknowledge. Better not to think about _that_ just yet.

"I'm just-I'm just saying that all I've ever wanted to do was fight monsters, Dean, it's just I'd been planning on going after the human kind." God, he really needed to stop looking at her like that. It was distracting as all hell and she found herself starting to ramble as her thoughts tried to wander off from what had been to what could be,"I mean, it's only been three weeks with you and I've already helped change two kids' entire lives." ...not quite the right turn of phrase there... "Okay, their afterlives, but still. Clarke and Emilia would still be stuck in that house, slowly going insane, for God knows how long if it weren't for us and that-"

She caught the amused smile curving the edges of Dean's too-perfect lips and cleared her throat yet again as she tried to finish the conversation she'd started. It wasn't easy, but Dean didn't call her a stubborn bitch for nothing. "Those kids didn't deserve that and I think helping them's the best thing I've ever done in my whole life. I wanna do this Dean, more than I've ever wanted anything, so...so I'm happy to stick around for as long as you'll have me."

Taking one final deep breath, Skye tilted her head back to look up at him. She'd expected some kind of response, but he wasn't saying a thing, instead just looking down at her like...like… _Like I'm worth something._ "Why are you looking at me like that, Winchester?"

"Because you're awesome and every time I think you can't get any better, you go and prove me wrong."

"I'm not-I don't-"

"Shut up and take the compliment, Tinkerbell."

"...yes, _sir."_


End file.
